Lindsay's Book Chat

Two Lips Reviews gives 'The Snow Bride' 5 Lips & a Recommended Read!

2012-02-02T10:11:00.001Z

I'm thrilled by this latest review of 'The Snow Bride' from Mac at TwoLips Reviews:

I was completely enraptured by The Snow Bride. It’s the best story I’ve read in quite some time. Ms. Lindsay Townsend creates scenery so vibrant I thought I could touch the mistletoe and freeze from the cold. Magnus became a beautiful knight in spite of his scarred face and maimed body as I saw him through the eyes of the heroine. His spirit of kindness and self-sacrifice made me believe he had a heart as big as the sky. I fell in love with him.

The heroine Ms. Townsend created was the kind of woman who could heal a broken heart and mend a wound with her unusual abiding kindness and devotion. She had a steel spine and courage but wisdom enough to listen to the voice of reason. The Snow Bride has everything a reader could ever want in a story: romance, intrigue, redemption and adventure. Ms. Townsend’s wonderful book, The Snow Bride is not to be missed. I could turn around and read it all over again. - Mac

(Five Lips, Recommended Read)

Amazon Kindle (US)
Amazon Kindle (UK)
Barnes and Noble
Bookstrand
Kobo

Warm Up Your Winter II - The Snow Bride is out at Amazon

2012-01-26T12:34:00.000Z

She is Beauty, but is he the Beast?

Elfrida, spirited, caring and beautiful, is also alone. She is the witch of the woods and no man dares to ask for her hand in marriage until a beast comes stalking brides and steals away her sister. Desperate, the lovely Elfrida offers herself as a sacrifice, as bridal bait, and she is seized by a man with fearful scars. Is he the beast?

In the depths of a frozen midwinter, in the heart of the woodland, Sir Magnus, battle-hardened knight of the Crusades, searches ceaselessly for three missing brides, pitting his wits and weapons against a nameless stalker of the snowy forest. Disfigured and hideously scarred, Magnus has finished with love, he thinks, until he rescues a fourth 'bride', the beautiful, red-haired Elfrida, whose innocent touch ignites in him a fierce passion that satisfies his deepest yearnings and darkest desires.

Now out at Bookstrand Publishing 2011
Order here.

Now out at Amazon, too!
Buy the ebook:

Amazon Kindle (US)
Amazon Kindle (UK)
Bookstrand

Read Chapter One

Here is another new excerpt to tempt you:

Elfrida stirred sluggishly, unable to remember where she was. Her back ached, and the rest of her body burned. She opened her eyes and sat up with a jerk, thinking of Christina.

Her head felt to be bobbing like an acorn cup in a stream, and her vision swam. As she tried to swing her legs, her sense of dizzy falling increased, becoming worse as she closed her eyes. She lashed out in the darkness, her flailing hands and feet connecting with straw, dusty hay, and ancient pelts.

“Christina?” she hissed, listening intently and praying now that the monster had brought her to the same place it had taken her sister.

She heard nothing but her own breath, and when she held that, nothing at all.

“Christina?” Fearing to reach out in this blackness that was more than night and dreading what she might find, Elfrida forced herself to stretch her arms. She trailed her fingers out into the ghastly void, tracing the unseen world with trembling hands.

Her body shook more than her hands, but she ignored the shuddering of her limbs, closed her eyes like a blind man, and searched.

She lay on a pallet, she realized, full of crackling, dry grass. When she scented and tasted the air, there was no blood. She did not share the space with grisly corpses.

I am alone and unfettered. Now her heart had stopped thudding in her ears, she listened again, hearing no one else. Chanting a charm to see in the dark, she tried again to shift her feet.

Light spilled into her eyes like scalding milk as a door opened and a massive figure lurched across the threshold. Elfrida launched herself at freedom, hurling a fistful of straw at the looming beast and ducking out for the light.

She fell instead, her legs buckling, her last sight that of softly falling snow.

* * * *

Magnus gathered the woman before she pitched facedown into the snow, returning her swiftly to the rough bed within the hut. Her tiny, bird-boned form terrified him. Clutching her was like ripping a fragile wood anemone up from its roots.

And she had fought him, wind-flower or not. She had charged at him.

“I wish, lass, that you would listen to me. I am not the Forest Grendel, nor have wish to be, nor ever have been.”

Just as earlier, in the clearing where he had first come upon her, a brilliant shock of life and color in a white, dead world, the woman gave no sign of hearing. She was cold again, freezing, while in his arms she had steamed with fever. He tugged off his cloak and bundled her into it, then piled his firewood and kindling onto the bare hearth.

A few strikes of his flints and he had a fire. He set snow to melt in the helmet he was using as a cauldron. He swept more dusty hay up from the floor and, sneezing, packed it round the still little figure.

No beast on two or four legs would hunt tonight, so that was one worry less. Finding this lean-to hut in the forest had been a godsend, but it would be cold.

Magnus went back out into the snow and led his horse into the hut, spreading what feed he had brought with him. He kept the door shut with his saddle, rubbed the palfrey down with the bay’s own horse blanket, and looked about for a lantern.

There was none, just as there were no buckets, nor wooden bowls hanging from the eaves. But, abandoned as it surely had been, the place was well roofed, and no snow swirled in through the wood and wattle walls. Whistling, Magnus dug through his pack and found a flask of ale, some hard cheese, two wizened apples, and a chunk of dark rye bread. He spoke softly to his horse, then looked again at the woman.

She was breathing steadily now, and her lips and cheeks had more color. By the glittering, rising fire he saw her as he had first in the forest clearing, an elf-child of beauty and grace, a willing sacrifice to the monster. Kneeling beside her, he longed to stroke her vivid red hair and kiss the small dimple in her chin. In sleep she had the calm, flawless face of a Madonna of Outremer and the bright locks of a Magdalene.

He had guessed who she was—the witch of the three villages, the good witch driven to desperation. Coming upon her in that snowfield, tied between two trees like a crucified child of fairy, his temper had been a black storm against the villagers for sparing their skins by flaying hers. Then he had seen her face, recognized that wild, stark, sunken-cheeked grief, seen the loose bonds and the terrible “feast,” and had understood.

Another young woman has been taken by the beast, someone you love.

She—Elfrida, that was her name, he remembered it now—Elfrida was either very foolish or very powerful, to offer herself as bait.

4.5 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies for 'The Snow Bride'

2012-01-19T14:13:00.000Z

Good reviews are coming in for The Snow Bride. The latest is a 4.5 Blue Ribbon one from Romance Junkies:

A magical read, THE SNOW BRIDE is an intriguing, passionate historical romance that will keep you up late into the night, avidly turning pages to see what happens next. Magnus and Elfrida are two ideally suited people. They put others first before themselves and are able to see the hidden qualities in people. Although Christina was described as being beautiful, I did not like her as much as I liked Elfrida. She seems a little selfish to me. Despite a language barrier, Magnus and Elfrida were able to overcome it, with a language they claimed as their own. Packed with dreams, curses, magic, kidnapped brides, mystery, humor, complex characters, clever banter and true love, this story is a wonderful escape into the land of witches, knights and forever after love. I absolutely enjoyed this story and look forward to reading more works by talented author Lindsay Townsend. - 4.5 Blue Ribbons.

Available now for all ebook formats from Bookstrand.

Warm up your New Year - 'The Snow Bride' is out today!

2011-12-27T12:46:00.000Z

Warm up your winter: 'The Snow Bride'

2011-12-17T13:20:00.002Z

She is Beauty, but is he the Beast?

Elfrida, spirited, caring and beautiful, is also alone. She is the witch of the woods and no man dares to ask for her hand in marriage until a beast comes stalking brides and steals away her sister. Desperate, the lovely Elfrida offers herself as a sacrifice, as bridal bait, and she is seized by a man with fearful scars. Is he the beast?

In the depths of a frozen midwinter, in the heart of the woodland, Sir Magnus, battle-hardened knight of the Crusades, searches ceaselessly for three missing brides, pitting his wits and weapons against a nameless stalker of the snowy forest. Disfigured and hideously scarred, Magnus has finished with love, he thinks, until he rescues a fourth 'bride', the beautiful, red-haired Elfrida, whose innocent touch ignites in him a fierce passion that satisfies his deepest yearnings and darkest desires.

Coming Dec 27th from Bookstrand Publishing 2011
15% discount until January 3! Pre-order here.

Read Chapter One

Here is another excerpt to tempt you:

Magnus was worried. The fire he had made should have brought his people. It was an old signal, well-known between them. His men should have reached the village by now—that had been the arrangement. They were bringing traps and provisions in covered wagons, and hunting dogs and horses. He had been impatient to start his pursuit of the Forest Grendel and so rode ahead, returning with the messenger until that final stretch when the man turned off to his home. He had ridden on alone, finding the wayside shrine.

But from then, all had gone awry. Instead of the monster, he had found an ailing witch, and the snowstorm had lost him more tracks and time.

Magnus shook his head, turning indulgent eyes to the small, still figure on the rough pallet. At least the little witch had slept through the night and day, snug and safe, and he had been able to make her a litter from woven branches. He would give his fire signal a little longer and then return Elfrida to her village. There he might find someone who could translate between them.

Perhaps she did have power, for even as he looked at her, she sat up, the hood of her cloak falling away, and stared at him in return. She said something, then repeated it, and he drew in a great gulp of cold air in sheer astonishment, then laughed.

“I know what you said!” He wanted to kiss her, spots and all.

He burst into a clumsy canter, dragging his peg leg a little and almost tumbling onto her bed. She caught him by the shoulders and tried to steady him but collapsed under his weight.

They finished in an untidy heap on the pallet, with Elfrida hissing by his ear, “Why have you done such a foolish thing as to burn all our fuel?”

He rolled off her, knocked snow off his front and beard, and said in return, “How did you know I would know the old speech, the old English?”

“I dream true, and I dreamed this.” She was blushing, though not, he realized quickly, from shyness.

“Why burn so wildly?” she burst out, clearly furious. “You have wasted it! All that good wood gone to ash!”

“My men know my sign and will come now the storm has gone.” He had not expected thanks or soft words, but he was not about to be scolded by this red-haired nag.

“That is your plan, Sir Magnus? To burn half the forest to alert your troops?”

“A wiser plan than yours, madam, setting yourself as bait. Or had your village left you hanging there, perhaps to nag the beast to death?”

Her face turned as scarlet as the fire. “So says any witless fool! ’Tis too easy a charge men make against women, any woman who thinks and acts for herself. And no man orders me!”

Magnus swallowed the snort of laughter filling up his throat. He doubted she saw any amusement in their finally being able to speak to each other only to quarrel. Had she been a man or a lad, he would have knocked her into the snow, then offered a drink of mead, but such rough fellowship was beyond him here.

“And how would you have fought off any knave, or worse, that found you?” he asked patiently. “You did not succeed with me.”

“There are better ways to vanquish a male than brute force. I knew what I was about!”

“Truly? You were biding your time? And the pox makes you alluring?”

“Says master gargoyle! My spots will pass!”

“Or did you plan to scatter a few herbs, perhaps?”

He thought he heard her clash her teeth together. “I did not plan my sickness, and I do not share my secrets! Had you not snatched me away, had you not interfered, I would know where the monster lives. I would have found my sister! I would be with her!” Her voice hitched, and a look of pain and dread crossed her face. “We would be together. Whatever happens, I would be with her.”

“This was Christina?”

“Is Christina, not was, never was! I know she lives!”

Magnus merely nodded, his temper cooling rapidly as he marked how her color had changed and her body shook. A desperate trap to recover a much-loved sister excused everything, to his way of thinking.

She called you a gargoyle! This piqued his vanity and pride.

But she does not think you the monster, Magnus reminded himself in a dazzled, shocked wonder, embracing that knowledge like a lover.

A sweet Christmas fantasy - with hot chocolate

2011-12-02T10:45:00.004Z

I wrote 'A Christmas Sleeping Beauty' as my take on a fairy story and as a piece of historical fantasy - which is where the hot chocolate comes in. (Hot chocolate, or rather cocoa, is my favourite Christmas drink.)

Today 'A Christmas Sleeping Beauty' is published by MuseItUp.

Handsome, confident, a touch arrogant, Prince Orlando thinks that now he has found Sleeping Beauty, his kiss will wake her at once. When it does not, he realizes he has much to learn about life, and love.

Princess Rosie, trapped in her enchanted sleep, dreams of a mysterious man. Is he a rescuer, or a nightmare? She must fight to recover herself, and all before Christmas, for time is running out.

To read an excerpt and buy the ebook at $2.50, please go to http://www.lindsaytownsend.net/2008/04/christmas-sleeping-beauty.html

'The English Daughter' - Romantic suspense reissued by Lysandra Press

2011-11-30T16:44:00.002Z

Young widow Val Baker restores musical instruments, but fears her relationship with her Greek-Italian family on Corfu is broken beyond repair.

Returning to the island to work on a rare piano belonging to her Greek friend Alexia, she finds her dreams haunted by memories of Hilary; a young English girl raped and murdered ten years before. Val determines to uncover the truth about the case, and set to rest her own doubts about the involvement of her father, Yiannis, and half-brother, Markos, both policemen who were involved in the original investigation.

Joined by her friend Harry, Val begins to unravel the threads. When two strange tokens arrive, one for Alexia's daughter Chloe and one for Val, it becomes clear that Hilary's unknown killer is on Val's trail. Her search for the truth becomes a race for life.

Previously published by Severn House.
Reissued as an ebook by Lysandra Press 2011.
£2.99.

Buy the ebook now: Lysandra Press

Read Chapter One

Another excerpt:

They returned to an arcaded street where they could stroll side by side, and Harry released Val’s fingers. Perversely, Val was disappointed.

‘Wait, please.’ Harry crouched in the middle of the alley to retie one shoelace. Steve and Judith pushed round them. Judith, counting caged birds, called, ‘There’s another!’

Staring down at Harry, Val wondered if he was trying to put her off balance. Even as she thought it, he glanced up, straight at her. ‘How about that visit to your workshop right now?’

‘No cemetery?’ Val teased back.

Harry laughed, but said, ‘Or you go on alone there, if you want. Time in your own place.’ He rose, looking her up and down, his face hardening. ‘You’ve had enough today.’

Did she trust Harry? Could she really rely on him?

‘Val.’ Harry’s voice returned Val to the middle of the alley. ‘What do you say? A simple yes will do.’

Since when did he become so bossy? Val marvelled, uncertain what to make of this new Harry. She opened her mouth but was forestalled by Judith. Her daughter ran back up the street and cannoned into her legs.

‘There’s a poster round the corner of Beauty and the Beast! Can we go, Mummy, please?’

Val drew Judy out of the road and knelt in front of her daughter. Had she and Judith been alone, she would have happily gone to see her child’s favourite film, but asking Steve or Harry to do so was unfair.

‘Judy, I don’t think—’ she began, when Steve touched her arm.

‘It’s no problem,’ he said, quietly. ‘There’s a film starting in about twenty minutes. Won’t do me any harm.’

Harry took out his wallet and thrust a wad of euros at Steve. ‘Have an ice-cream while you’re about it,’ he remarked, nodding at Judy.

Val admitted it made sense. Her workshop really wasn’t the place for Judy and they all needed a lift after that family reunion.

‘Right, but come straight back to the workshop as soon as the film’s over. You’re clear about the address? And you know where you’re going?

‘You put Steve up to that,’ she said, waving them off, watching until they had turned the corner.

‘Did I?’ Harry was looking past her, right over her head.

‘What?’ Val turned, her eye drawn to a poster celebrating the return of the ‘International Performer’ Stefan Gregory to Corfu. Hear him live at the Achillion! the poster proclaimed, a horrible irony. ‘I need a newspaper, Harry.’

‘There’s a little shop three doors down. I’m sure they’ll sell them.’ Harry stepped round Val and was off. ‘You’ll translate the crime reports?’ he called back. ‘I still don’t read Greek so well.’

Val trotted to catch up. ‘Why do you want to know?’

Harry swung round. ‘No, Val. The question is, why do you?’

‘Why are you still thinking like a policeman? You’re as bad—’ Val stopped the rest of the complaint. She didn’t want her father or Markos shadowing them, least of all Markos.

As bad as Nick, finished Harry in his own mind. Maybe he should go after Judy and Steve. The rest of this evening was going to be a bust.

‘This is it.’ Val set her shoulder to the workshop door.

‘Good God,’ Harry said.

‘You like it?’ Val was surprised. Most visitors to Nonno’s workshop were overwhelmed. Nick had said, ‘How do you move in here?’ but Harry entered the room as she did, with a quiet confidence.

They breathed in together, sharing the scents of resin, polish and wood. His eyes were everywhere, taking in the dismantled pianos, lighting on the old hard swatches of felt, sweeping to the stone sink in the corner and up the walls with their shelves and tools. He turned about in a circle.

‘Whenever I picture you at work, I’ll always see you here.’

Val nodded, swallowing. She was foolishly touched by Harry’s sensitivity and ashamed of her earlier churlishness. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize. You say sorry far too much.’

She walked over to him. ‘Bend down - you’ve got a cobweb.’

Harry half crouched and she lifted spider and web off the bronzing temple close to his left ear, marvelling at the Viking hair, the thick golden brows and eyelashes, pitying his slightly receding hairline. She dangled the spider on the closed shutters, startled by her own disappointment that Harry had made no attempt to touch her in return.

The heat’s getting to me, she thought, turning from the shutters straight into Harry’s arms.

‘Hello,’ he said.

‘Hello back.’ Aware that the next move must come from her, she transferred the local newspaper from her left hand into both hands, gripping it in front of her, and rested her head against his breastbone.

There was no sense of wonder, or fireworks, as there had been with Nick. Val was oddly divorced from her senses. She didn’t want more than this floating peace. ‘I can’t—’

‘Sssh. It’s all right.’ He brushed her jaw with his fingers, seeking her chin to raise her head. ‘I only want to look at you.’

‘You’ve seen me lots of times,’ Val muttered at his stomach.

‘True, but not here.’

‘We’re not in Fenfield,’ she agreed, and lifted her face to his.

In the distance there was a knocking. Val didn’t connect it with the workshop until Harry placed a warning finger on her lips.

‘Let me in!’ Markos hammered on her door. As Val tensed, he kicked the solid black wood of the outer door and left without noticing that it was unlocked.

‘That was lucky,’ Val said, as his pounding feet faded away.

Harry spread a hand across the middle of her back and teased her closer. ‘You’ve already told me about Markos, but am I missing something?’

Val batted him with the paper. ‘Stop being a copper. It’s not important.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Leave it alone, Harry.’

‘Fair enough, Val.’ He released her and strode to the window, strumming his left hand down the length of one shutter. ‘What about that newspaper report you wanted to see?’

Sensing that even this activity would be the prelude to more questions, Val spread the paper on the bench. Harry came to stare over her shoulder.

‘Well?’ he prompted above her, leaning on his braced arm, his palm spread on the bench amongst a tiny, forgotten pile of old wood shavings.

‘It says very little.’ Even as she scanned the pages covering the latest murder, she wondered just how much her companion understood. Not only about the body found at the Achillion.

‘A young woman’s naked body, discovered amongst trees in the grounds of the Achillion,’ she paraphrased. ‘No one seems to know who she is, what nationality. It says she died of a broken neck.’

‘Her killer must be physically strong, then,’ said Harry.

Val’s fingers traced the lines. ‘The paper speaks of other wounds that the police won’t disclose. It doesn’t say she was raped, but people are already talking about the Achillion killer striking again.’

‘How many times has this happened? Bodies of naked young women found in a well-known beauty spot?’

‘I wouldn’t call the Achillion beautiful.’

‘Tourist spot. Whatever. What’s going on, Val? When Markos trumpeted his news, you went white.’

Why did she feel tempted to confess? ‘It was years ago,’ she said, covering her confusion by folding up the newspaper. ‘An English tourist called Hilary Moffat was killed here. She vanished from Corfu town and was found raped and murdered in the grounds of the Achillion the following night.’

‘What distances are we talking here? Between Corfu town and the Achillion?’

‘About ten kilometres. An easy road south.’

‘So it’s likely the killer had some kind of transport. And possibly an appealing manner, to lure the girl into it?’

‘I should think so.’ Val had considered these points long ago. ‘It would be hard to snatch someone off the streets: too many people would see.’

‘Were there any suspects the first time?’

Val shook her head. ‘I don’t know. The newspapers never mentioned anyone. No one was charged.’

‘And the first victim was also naked?’

Val nodded, blushing as Harry looked at her, his head tilted to one side so that he could see all her face.

‘You knew her.’

‘She was a music student like me, that’s all.’

She expected more  what, she couldn’t say. More questions, possibly. Instead, Harry’s face closed down as she spoke.

‘I see.’ He returned to his vantage point beside the shutters.

‘What? What do you see?’ Val became more exasperated as Harry smiled  and not a pleasant smile.

‘Not comfortable, is it, being shut out?’

‘I’m not . . . It’s difficult . . .’ Val stammered, alarmed by her unexpected wish to please Harry. ‘I’m probably crazy, anyway. Too many dreams.’

Harry wandered back to her, reached under the bench and lifted out her tall stool. ‘Why don’t we start again? You sit here and explain as much as you feel easy to tell me.’

Val sat on the stool and glanced at her watch.

‘We’ve plenty of time. The film won’t have started yet,’ Harry coaxed.

‘I know.’ Anxious about confessing her involvement with Hilary, Val chewed on her lower lip.

Harry crossed the stone flags yet again and peered through the gap in the shutters. ‘Nothing you say will change my good opinion of you— Hello! There’s someone outside. He’s coming here.’

A brisk rattling at the inner door.

Medieval vampires - dead or alive...

2011-11-26T19:22:00.000Z

Did people in the Middle Ages really believe in vampires? They certainly believed in ghosts, which they called revenants, from the Latin meaning ‘to return’. It was believed that the unquiet dead, particularly those who had died by violence or by reason of a grudge, would return to haunt the living and try to take revenge on them. These revenants might haunt a graveyard or a particular area, known to them in life, and terrorize the living.

They also believed that the dead could be commanded to rise again and spirits or demons compelled to do a wizard’s bidding, through the dark art of necromancy. A surprising number of priests were interested in these dubious practices as a means of gaining power or knowledge. Priests might also seek to exorcise spirits possessing people, by means of prayer or sacred herbs or charms.

Vampires, however, do not really make an appearance until the fourteenth century. Why then?

In 1348 the Black Death struck Europe. Thousands died and thousands of rotting corpses had to be buried, often in mass graves. Sights of these bodies was often grisly and bloody, and so the idea of the vampire, feeding on the blood of the living, came into force.

Recently a body in a medieval Italian mass grave on the Venetian island of Lazzaretto Nuovo was found with a slab of rock slammed between its jaws – a crude anti-vampire measure. The dead woman was suspected by the grave-diggers of being a vampire, possibly because of gruesome sights around her decomposing body when they had re-opened the mass grave to bury more plague victims. So the frightened grave-diggers put a brick in her mouth to stop her chewing through her shroud and escaping the grave to infect others. A very grisly measure!

In my forthcoming medieval historical romance, The Snow Bride (due out Dec 27th), I don’t mention medieval vampires but I do deal with witchcraft and necromancers. My heroine, red-haired Elfrida, is a witch and wise-woman and through the ‘magic’ of love she helps my scarred hero Magnus. Both Elfrida and Magnus must battle against an evil necromancer – a medieval wizard who summoned spirits and demons – and, in a desperate race against time, recover Elfrida’s younger sister. In The Snow Bride I show medieval magic and beliefs, but not medieval vampires. Maybe in another story?

'Voices in the Dark' - romantic excerpt in Venice.

2011-11-08T09:36:00.000Z

To celebrate the re-issue of my romantic suspense, 'Voices in the Dark,' here is a romantic excerpt where the hero Roberto and heroine Julia go to Venice.

Excerpt.

Venice. Neither Julia nor Roberto had ever been to the floating city. Free of memories and ghosts, deserted by tourists in a day of freezing fog, Venice was theirs.
      Leaning out on the Rialto bridge, Julia spoke their united thought. 'Glad we came.' Time, their constant harrier, glided like the mist gilded streams under their feet as they regarded each other.
      They kissed on the bridge, the silver fog rising from the water hiding them and the city in a secret embrace.
     'I wish we could stay,' said Roberto, when they surfaced a little from the kiss. Julia turned a dreamy open face sidelong and ran her eyes over him. She wanted this rippling quiet, this day of misted sun glinting on the tops of suspended marble palaces, to go on for ever. No more struggle for success no more troubles. No more Scarpia.
     'I can't get used to you without that plaster cast,' she murmured, obliterating the world as she pressed her cheek against his chest. 'I like the suit.' Dark grey, classically cut, worn with eye-grabbing panache, the suit had been a revelation. She already had designs for borrowing the waistcoat. She hugged him tight. ‘You look great.'
     'And you are truly gorgeous.' Roberto stroked a hand down her back. 'Why do you hide those legs?'
     His hand, and even more his eyes were doing things to her.
     'Shall we?' he said.
     'Yes.'

      They took a gondola. Paying the gondolier not to sing, they settled against the heart-shaped backrest, Roberto giving Julia his cushion. Whilst he chatted to the gondolier about the latest football scores, Julia trailed her fingers through mist to cold, silken, softly grey-green waters. Both were too aware of each other to need more than the lightest touch of their bodies, side by side as they floated on the cradle of Venice's canals.
     Venice in a shimmering winter mist was as one of its more extravagant glass creations, cloudy and baroque at the base, its marble statues and wrought-iron house-grills looming through the mist like porcelain flowers stuck on Venetian chandeliers. Then halfway up the narrow buildings - just over the top of Roberto's brown spiky curls, Julia calculated - the mist thinned and sunshine dusted each white campanile.
     ‘We're here,' Roberto said softly. The gondola swayed against a painted landing post; a doorstep floated inches above the water. This was his surprise to her: a home, not a hotel, their own private place. He had booked it, along with a few extras, at Florence airport before they made their flight.
     He opened the front door. The gondolier, paid and tipped, was gossiping into his portable phone about having met Roberto Padovano. ' . . . and you know he's really normal . . . great bloke . . . asked about the big match, you know, Roma versus Inter-Milan . . .'
     Someone in the Romanesque palace opposite shook their shoes out of the balcony window. Hidden by a curve of buildings, muted by fog, two waterbuses honked as they passed on the Grand Canal.
     Julia rose circumspectly to her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil the moment, shatter the delicious tension by an ungainly lurch off the boat. In jeans and trainers she would not have thought twice, but high heels and a fitted coat were a different matter.
     Roberto did not offer his hand but merely plucked her from the gondola, swinging her lightly off her feet into his arms. They entered the Venetian house that way, Roberto crossing the threshold carrying Julia. Closing the door on the grinning gondolier, he continued an unhurried advance to the bedroom.
     'Didn't I see a piano as we whisked through the living-room?' asked Julia. 'And a log fire and a Christmas hamper?'
     'You did,' answered Roberto, unbuttoning her coat, ‘This was once a composer's house. Now it's a luxury holiday home.' Slowly, he unfastened her shoes.
     Julia closed her eyes as his strong fingers brushed her ankles. ‘Which composer?' she asked softly, as her high heels went skating across the mosaic floor to the big sunlit window.
     'A German. He wrote many beautiful hymns - but then German is a spiritual language.' Spirit was not what Roberto was feeling at that moment. He swept her out of her coat onto the gold satin sheets.
     Julia helped him to shrug off his jacket and loosen his tie. 'What kind of language is English?' she asked, her nimble fingers undoing his waistcoat as his hands deftly slid into her dress, dispatching the fastenings. Her fingers brushed warm flesh as his thumbs circled the engorged nipples of her breasts.
     'Definitely pastoral.' Roberto's hands slipped gently between her thighs. 'Country matters.' As she gasped he kissed her.
     Off came the rest of the clothes, in silent, feverish haste. The pleasure of seeing each other naked was to be fully enjoyed in a later, less urgent moment; now it was contact, the mutual desire for possession. They burned in each other's arms.
     ‘What about French?' Julia murmured several long moments later, fingers teasing an intimate caress. He was so firm, so good to touch; she wanted all of him.
     'Intellectual.' Her hand guided. Her body enfolded. It was better than anything he had known before. Sweating, rigid in delight, Roberto forced himself to be slow.
     Julia felt him moving deep inside her. The virtues of Spanish and Italian must keep. She kissed his throat. His arms tightened around her. The spikes of pleasure intensified as his hips ground against hers. She writhed beneath him. As he came he shouted her name. As she came she kissed him on the mouth.
     For both, it had been worth the wait.

Smashwords and Kindle 2011
$3.99

Buy the ebook:

Smashwords
Amazon Kindle (US)
Amazon Kindle (UK)

Reviews from the original UK print edition:Birmingham Sunday Mercury:
Lindsay Townsend's mixture of arias and skullduggery turns into a highly readable thriller.

Yorkshire Post:
Confident debut.

Grimsby Evening Telegraph:
She obviously has a passion for writing. This is a book you will not be able to put down.

'Voices in the Dark' now re-issued

2011-10-29T13:21:00.003+01:00

My romantic suspense novel 'Voices in the Dark,' first published by Hodder and Stoughton in 1995, is now re-issued as an ebook and is available for all the usual formats (including Kindle) on Smashwords.

UPDATE: Both Voices in the Dark and Night of the Storm are now available from Amazon.com and Amazon UK.

Here are the details:

Julia Rochfort, a young opera singer, visits Italy to take part in a competition judged by Roberto Padovano, a world-famous bass. When he and Julia meet and fall in love, the consequences will be devastating. Julia and Roberto are already connected by terrifying events that took place before they were born: the atrocities inflicted on a Tuscan village in 1944 by a torturer known only as 'Scarpia' after the villain in Puccini's opera Tosca. As they uncover the intricate web of betrayal, deception and guilt, the danger grows. For Scarpia and some who share his guilt are still alive - and desperate to keep their past secret for ever.

Smashwords 2011
$3.99

Buy the ebook:

Smashwords
Amazon Kindle (US)
Amazon Kindle (UK)

Reviews from the original UK print edition:Birmingham Sunday Mercury:Lindsay Townsend's mixture of arias and skullduggery turns into a highly readable thriller.

Yorkshire Post:Confident debut.

Grimsby Evening Telegraph:She obviously has a passion for writing. This is a book you will not be able to put down.

'Palace of the Fountains' now in print

2011-10-25T11:15:00.001+01:00

My romantic suspense novel, 'Palace of the Fountains,' is now in print and appearing at Barnes and Noble, Amazon US and Amazon UK.

To read the blurb, excerpt and reviews, please go here.

Beautiful worlds - mainly medieval

2011-10-12T11:56:00.000+01:00

There are two 'schools' of historians - optimists and pessimists. The first looks to the positive side of historical events. The latter tends to a more gloomy view. It's the rosy and the grubby views of history.

In creating the past in my stories I tend to the more rosy view of history, apart from where I feel readers need to be shown the 'grubby' side as a contrast, or for high stakes, or to endanger my heroines or heroes. But the worlds I try to create I try to make appealing - and romantic in the uplifting, optimistic sense. I rather celebrate the best in human nature and show the 'best' of past societies and cultures.

So how do I go about it?

First I read. I read children's non fiction books (lots of social history and pictures), general histories, specialist histories and finally original, primary sources where I can - letters, chronicles, laws, coroners' rolls. An amazing amount of detail can be found in the last two. Look at the Sumptuary Laws of the 1300s, aimed at restricting expensive dress - that tells me that everyone in England was dressing as richly as they could. And coroners' rolls give lists of accidents that are both vivid and chilling: a man dies because he fell through his privy floor and drowned in his privy, a child perishes because she falls into the fire. These cases are tragic and horrific but they give clues to the world.

These details are grim, so in my world they would be touched on only briefly, if at all, but I need to know them and use them where appropriate.

Other more positive details I try to slip into my novels - as deftly as possible, so I don't have slabs of research and a fact-mountain in the middle of my story. For these details I find pictures invaluable. The beautiful drawings of Les Tres Riches Heures of the Duc de Berry show ordinary people at work and play and the world in which they do so. It may be an idealized world, but I find it endlessly inspiring.

I also focus on pleasant things - hobbies, past-times, pleasures and show my characters at play. I also show my characters at work and try to make those sections interesting, in that my people have unusual skills - everyone likes to learn new things.

To build the world I start with geography - the land itself. Where a character lives defines how that person survives on the land and what skills the person will have. Is it wooded and fertile, with soft, rolling hills, or bleaker and harsher? Uplands also have their beauties and I research what animals and plants grow in my fictional kingdom, taking care to include those species which were once common but are now rare. I also take care that my animals and plants are appropriate to the period - in the Middle Ages, I can't have a bunch of English villagers munching on potatoes, which weren't introduced from the New World until much later.

After I have 'made' my land I consider the people. What do they look like? Do they have any unusual aspects in their appearance? Do they have any particular habits of movement, speech or dress? What are they clothed in?

Clothes are always fun for a writer, and for a reader. Roman Britain gives me a lot of scope as there were all kinds of luxury fabrics such as silk available to the rich, plus wonderful jewels. Ancient Roman houses - the ones the rich could afford - can also be shown as very beautiful, with wall paintings and under-floor heating.

After the fall of the Roman Empire the wattle and daub houses that replaced the grand villas might sound drab, but certainly in this country it's the dream of many British to live in a thatched cottage and that is what many of the dwellings were, in essence. When I create them for my beautiful medieval worlds, I stress their snug warmth and living heat.

Returning briefly to clothes, the later Middle Ages also has furs and silks and richly dyed woollens, plus an array of hats and jewels and shoes.

To create a beautiful world of the past I also evoke pleasing sounds and scents - the bells ringing the church hours, the twitter of birds, the rattle of drums, the scent of baking bread, the smell of a bluebell wood - and more.

Selection is the key. As I try to evoke the past and create a beautiful past, I select those details that will transport the reader into fields of wild flowers and colorful, vibrant cities.

It is my pleasure to do so, and I hope it is my readers' pleasure to enjoy the results.

Why the Middle Ages fascinate me

2011-10-03T10:11:00.003+01:00

I write historical romances set in the ancient world and the Middle Ages, especially the Middle Ages. Why then?

The Middle Ages covers a huge period of time in the western world, from AD 300 - the rise of the Roman emperor Constantine and the adoption of Christianity as the official religion of the Roman Empire - until the 14th century. This gives lots of scope.

It was a time when religion played a crucial part in people’s lives. The clash of the spiritual and practical was very real. That clash is shown most clearly in the history of the Crusades, when men, women and even children left their homes to travel to the Near East to ‘win’ the holy city of Jerusalem. The motives of such people were mixed and varied, so that mix of emotions - the profound, the greedy, the opportunistic, the generous - fascinate me as a writer. I touch upon the impact that the Crusades and contact with the Arab world had on men and women in ‘A Knight’s Vow’.

The Middle Ages was a time very different to our own, with different beliefs: a pig could be put on trial for witchcraft, a man would be made to prove his innocence by clasping a red-hot iron bar, a woman would be told by the church that she was inferior to her husband and yet still be expected to defend his castle. Alchemy and chemistry were one and the same. The contrast in ideas between then and now fascinate me and I like to show them at work in my romances. In ‘A Knight’s Enchantment’ I have a woman alchemist and she uses her skills to help the hero save his brother.

This was the age of Eleanor of Aquitaine's court of love, of Geoffroi de Charny’s ‘A Knight’s Own Book of Chivalry’ - a how-to book for knights - and Christine de Pizan’s ‘City of Ladies’ - a defense by a woman writer of her own sex. It was a time of the Viking sagas, of troubadours and the chronicles, of many rich and varied sources of information. It was a time of jousts and tournaments, where ladies gave favours and knights vied for honour - jousts I describe in my ‘A Knight’s Enchantment’ and ‘To Touch The Knight’.

But the Black Death came, too, a plague - or series of plagues - that killed almost a third of Europe. The survivors were traumatized but also had new chances to prosper, something I explore in ‘To Touch The Knight’.

The Middle Ages had many decisive battles that changed the course of history - Hastings, Agincourt, Poitiers, Crécy amongst them. I explore the changes the Battle of Hastings made in my ‘A Knight’s Captive’.

I write romances in which the history serves the hero and heroine and the impact of that history is shown through their lives. The Middle Ages gives me a wonderful backdrop for adventure, high stakes, courtly knights and beastly ones, generous ladies and cruel damsels, peril, good and horrible manners and amazing costumes.

I love the Middle Ages.

4.5 Red Roses for 'Palace of the Fountains'

2011-09-21T18:43:00.002+01:00

I'm thrilled by this 4.5 Red Roses for my romantic suspense, 'Palace of the Fountains' by the review site Red Roses for Authors.

Red Roses for Authors:
This is an excellent romantic suspense that will keep the reader on the edge of their seat as they read this one. The story slowly pulls the reader in and before the reader knows it they are hooked and not willing to put this one down until they find out just what is the truth. The twists and turns are brilliantly subtle and will keep the reader guessing as to who is behind everything and just what exactly is going on. This is one to pick and read as the reader will not be disappointed in the end. I give this one 4-1/2 red roses.

4.5 Books from Long and Short Reviews for 'To Touch The Knight'

2011-09-15T12:45:00.001+01:00

I'm thrilled to report that Aloe of Long and Short Reviews has given my To Touch the Knight a review of 4.5 books. Here's her review:

There is pestilence in the land and serfs are dying. Edith’s Lord decides to handle the matter expediently. He herds all the living serfs into the church building, mixing the healthy with the sick, and bars the doors. What does he care if they all die? He can always get more serfs.

It’s easy to see that this author has done some research on this historical era. She emphasizes the difference between good Lords and bad, she shows insight on the character of knights that joust (they are no better than the man they are to begin with), and she shows how hopeless it is to be a serf under a bad Lord.

Ms. Townsend gives both of her lead characters strong personalities and a will to survive. Edith attends the tourneys with her friends, impersonating an Eastern princess. She manages to feed them with goods given them by knights who are seeking her attention and her hand. Sir Ranulf is a widower who only attends the jousts to keep his mind from dwelling on his dead wife; he takes no pleasure in it.

I really enjoyed how this author made Edith a spitfire who spars words with Ranulf. He snaps back, often regretting his quick words. In no time at all, the sparks flying between them are not just words, he’s determined to bed her. Of course, she’s determined to bed him, too, so that’s all right. I laughed out loud at the times they got close to “bed” and were interrupted by staff. Seems the best laid plans of mice and men didn’t seem to work out…

Danger is close, pestilence still exists, and Edith’s old Lord is after her, adding a tremendous amount of suspense, so the words pass quickly as you read. This was an exciting tale with plenty of plot strings crossing back and forth to keep your interest.

Why not take a trip in time back to medieval England and follow Edith’s adventures? Her life was a trial, but it was going to get better…

'A definite must read' - 4.5 ribbons from Romance Junkies

2011-09-07T09:45:00.000+01:00

The reviews add up for To Touch the Knight, this time 4.5 ribbons from Lydia at Romance Junkies, who says: 'You will fall in love with the sensuous, but sweet interactions between Sir Ranulf and the mysterious princess as their story takes us on a journey through one of the most horrific times in history. A definite must read...'

Here's the link to the full thing.

'To Touch The Knight' a Recommended Read at Joyfully Reviewed

2011-09-03T11:33:00.001+01:00

The review site Joyfully Reviewed have made my 'To Touch The Knight' a recommended read.

Joyfully Reviewed:

To Touch The Knight is a finely woven tale that has more than one intrigue you don’t expect in a historical. Ms. Townsend is able to bring forth a happy ending to a group of people who were horrifically affected by the plague. I was so intrigued by the plot in To Touch The Knight I was unable to put it down until I finished the last page. If you want a little different historical romance then I Joyfully Recommend To Touch The Knight.

'All About Romance' reviews 'To Touch the Knight'

2011-08-29T16:16:00.001+01:00

To Touch the Knight has been given a detailed and positive review by AAR today. I've put some paragraphs from it here - to read the whole thing, please go to their review page.

A Medieval Summer - a picture blog

2011-08-26T12:50:00.001+01:00

My latest historical romance, To Touch The Knight, takes place in summer, a tense summer just after the outbreak of plague in 1348, when people are trying to return to normal.

In more usual years, summer for people in the Middle Ages was both very busy and a time of relaxation and pleasure. After the hard graft of winter and spring, May was a holiday month in early summer, with few tasks in the agricultural calendar. May Day, a blend of Christian and older pagan traditions, was celebrated by everyone, with dancing, revels and drink.

May was the time when people would go wandering in the fields and woodlands, to enjoy the fresh greenery and woodland flowers. It was also blossom time, when the fruit trees and hedgerows burst into bloom, wild cherries and wild apples following each other in glorious profusion.

Later summer was a harder task-master: if a peasant worked on the land, later summer was when the sheep were sheared, then the hay and wheat harvests were gathered in. Summer, too, was often the prime time for military activity, when knights might be called to fight for their overlord or king on campaign. However, even in these months there was merry-making.

Midsummer was marked by bonfires, a pagan ‘left-over’ from the earlier festival of Beltane and celebrated in the Middle Ages as the saint’s day of St John. Young couples would sometimes leap over the midsummer bonfire for luck. Wells could also be dressed with flowers around this time – a relic of earlier water-spirit worship, and still carried on today.

July was marked by St Swithin’s day, when the strewings in the churches would be changed from the winter rushes and straw to the summer hay and sedges, and August saw the feast time of Lammas – loaf mass – to give thanks for the hard-won harvest.

[Photo of oxeye daisies and cornflowers by Colin Smith, photo of well-dressing by Bob Embleton, both of geograph.org.uk. The fifteenth-century stained glass harvesting scene is from the Victoria and Albert Museum. All three sourced from Wikimedia Commons.]

Fleeting fashions: clothing fads in the Middle Ages

2011-08-18T17:50:00.002+01:00

For many centuries in the Middle Ages, the basics of fashion for men and women remained the same - a gown for women and a long or short robe or tunic for men. Fashions for sleeves, hats and shoes could be more fleeting or even extreme and it's those I'm looking at today, particularly in Britain.

The sleeveless tunic, based on a knight's surcoat, was a popular clothing choice for medieval men. Then in the middle of the 13th century there was a brief fashion which added wide sleeves to the tunic and sometimes a hood, turning it into a garment called a gardecorps. This was intended to replace the surcoat and cloak, combining both into a single item, however it never really caught on. Still with sleeves and male fashion, the bag-sleeve for men, a wide, baggy sleeve snug at the wrist and shoulder, was popular for about twenty years around 1400, but again never really caught on.

For medieval women, hair and headdresses tended to be 'the thing'. Between 1130-50 there was a fashion for noble women to wear their hair long in plaits and for them to sheath these plaits in silk, usually white with red circular stripes. These sheaths were called fouriaux. However it was with headdresses that medieval noble-women especially indulged and which set the medieval clerics scolding about excess and vanity. A brief fashion, lasting roughly thirty years, was the heart-shaped head-dress, a headgear designed with two 'horns' on either side of the woman's head. Sometimes these headdresses became even wider, which caused a cleric of the time to remark: "She is hornyd like a kowe... for syn." At Ludlow, within the church of St Laurence, there is a misericord carved with a woman portrayed as a scold - and wearing a horned headdress. Women in later years wore the steeple headdress or hennin, a tall cone arrayed with long, flowing veils, although this tended to be a European than British fashion. This was also railed against by clerics, particularly in France.

All classes craved fashion, as can be seen by the various sumptuary laws passed in 1363 and 1463 which tried to stop 'lower' classes dressing in furs and certain fabrics and aping their 'betters'. Such acts made no difference as people loved to dress up.

Men's vanity was often shown in shoes. Piked shoes - shoes with points - were popular with men in the Middle Ages, although the length of the points varied through the years. The truly exaggerated points were a short fashion. The idea that men wore the long points with chains attached to their knees to stop them tripping up may simply have been a mistake or a later urban myth. However, such cramped shoes did cause medieval people to have real problems with their feet, similar to those found in women of the 1950s who wore pinching, pointed-toed stilettos. An archaeologist working in Ipswich found evidence in a medieval cemetery of people with painful feet as a result of their shoes.

Everyone, it seems, suffers for fashion, no matter how short-lived that fashion may be.

The rain in Spain...

2011-08-09T17:02:00.000+01:00

...falls mainly on the author. Since Palace of the Fountains is out today, here are a few pics from my time doing a bit of location research in León, northern Spain. I've included a view (in the rain) of the splendid cathedral, the turrets of Gaudí's 'Casa Botines' (a bank), three peacocks from a city park, two of them snoozing. And a menu. And a toyshop. And some trees in blossom. Ah, memories!

'Palace of the Fountains' available for pre-order

2011-07-31T14:05:00.000+01:00

My new romantic suspense title, Palace of the Fountains, is now ready to pre-order from Bookstrand at a discount until mid-August.

Here's the link.

Inspiring a heroine: 'Princess Caraboo'

2011-07-26T13:09:00.000+01:00

In To Touch The Knight, my heroine Edith pretends to be an exotic eastern princess, The Lady of Lilies, to save herself and her fellow villagers from starvation after the pestilence (the Black Death, which struck England in 1348).

Edith is a peasant woman and blacksmith, but presents herself as a strange princess with her own seductive costumes, language and customs. One of my inspirations for this particular desperate deception was a real-life fake from the eighteenth century, the Princess Caraboo.

This ‘princess’ was a young woman who appeared in a Gloucestershire village in 1817, dressed in unusual clothes and speaking a strange language. Upon investigation by the local magistrate, it was discovered she called herself Caraboo and later a sailor claimed he knew her language and translated her story. Caraboo claimed to be a princess from an island in the Indian ocean, who had escaped after being captured by pirates.

The magistrate, Stephen Worrall, and his wife took in Princess Caraboo. She lived with them for several weeks, famous and fêted by the local community.

In reality Princess Caraboo turned out to be Mary Baker, the daughter of an English cobbler. When the hoax was revealed due to her picture in the 'Bristol Journal' being recognized, the Worralls arranged for Mary to leave for Philadelphia.

Mary did go to America but returned later to England and died there. It was the story of her unusual deception that inspired a 1994 film, Princess Caraboo and partly inspired my own novel.

Medieval jugglers and others

2011-07-18T15:30:00.002+01:00

In the Middle Ages, professional musicians and minstrels were highly thought of and ranked in royal and noble households as the equals to huntsmen and falconers. Dancers, too, were well regarded - in 1306, the only woman paid as a musician in the royal household was an acrobatic dancer (saltatrix, 'tumbler') with the 'stage name’ of Matilda Makejoy. She possibly danced by bending backwards and touching her head with her feet, or on her hands, or on knives - in medieval stained glass Salome was shown dancing on knives.

Such dancers could be athletic and graceful or tumble in a jesting manner, playing for laughter. They could also be well paid and respected - Richard II paid John Katerine, a dancer from Venice, over £6 for playing and dancing before him, a sum not far short of £3,000 today.

Amongst the minstrels themselves there was a kind of ranking, with professional musicians at the top and jugglers and puppeteers at the bottom. Jugglers especially were considered at the time to be coarse, especially those who made a living wandering from fair to fair or village to village. Jugglers were felt to have few morals and to be able to do their tricks through magic - always a dangerous idea in the Middle Ages.

However jugglers were also held in affection, even by the church, and many illuminated manuscripts show jugglers. From the time of William the Conqueror, a 'King of the Jugglers' appeared at the court and would continue to appear through the Middle Ages. Whoever held this title had many rights to go with it. There is also a medieval legend of a juggler who, having nothing else to give, made an 'offering' of his juggling skills before a statue of the Virgin and Child in church. According to some variations of this story, the Madonna or Jesus caught one of the balls.

Juggling using different objects is more difficult than using the same objects. Bouncing objects off a floor is easier than tossing them in the air, and throwing all the objects in the air - called multiplexing in modern juggling - is easier than one after another.

Balls were commonly used for juggling but other things could also be used. In the Irish story of Cuchulainn, the hero juggles nine apples. The later Viking sagas also mention juggling and sometimes with weapons - Snorri Sturluson writes in one saga, "In the doorway of the hall, Gylfi saw a man juggling with knives, keeping seven in the air at a time.", a trick also mastered by Sunniva in A Knight’s Captive.

[Illustrations from Wikimedia Commons.]

Five Red Roses for 'To Touch the Knight'

2011-07-14T11:14:00.001+01:00

A lovely review today for my latest!:

Ranulf is called the Black Knight for good reason. He defeats all challengers in the joust and he broods – on the death of his wife and his guilt. When he meets the Lady of the Lilies – a princess from far Cathay - he is intrigued and his mood lightens. The Princess always goes veiled and her clothes are exotic scraps of fine cloth, which she fashions in her own style. Who is she and why does she follow the tourney? Torn between the Princess and a little brown maid he saw peeping at him on the riverbank, Ranulf is determined to solve the mystery.

Edith and her people have run from a cruel master. In a land stalked by pestilence they have to find a way to survive both the Black Death and hunger, and they live in fear of discovery by their old lord. Only the Lady of the Lilies and her mystery stand between them and a terrible punishment. But perhaps now there is a new saviour in the person of the Black Knight. Can Ranulf keep them safe and lead them to a new life?

The time of the Black Death was terrible for people in England and Europe. Townsend treats this period with honesty and sympathy. Parts of the book are perhaps dark because of the period but there is also a great deal of humour, fun and sensuality in this book, which should delight Townsend’s fans. I found it a thoroughly enjoyable read and the equal of her earlier knight books. This author is one to be followed as she carves a prominent place for herself on the historical list. If you enjoy medieval you must read this, because it is one of the best.

This book completely deserves its five red roses.

Linda Sole

http://redrosesforauthors.blogspot.com/2011/07/to-touch-knight.html

Sample Sunday - a new excerpt from 'To Touch The Knight'

2011-07-10T08:00:00.002+01:00

Here, as part of Sample Sunday, is a new excerpt from To Touch The Knight. In it, Edith realizes she has been out-played for the moment in the courtly game by the fearsome - and attractive - knight, Ranulf.

Excerpt:

"Those are my lord's terms," said the squire. "A kiss for each favor.
       The lanky young man stopped, scarlet in the face. Had Edith been less incensed she might have felt for him, but she had her own troubles.
       “He will acknowledge me as his Master at this joust, and carry my favor?”
       “As his Mistress and lady, you mean?” The squire swallowed, staring now at his feet. “Yes, my lady.”
       That was something, at least. Edith glanced at Teodwin, seeing his shuttered expression and sensing his near-panic. At the back of the great tent, behind the screen, Maria’s light breathing had quickened and Walter was saying to her, very quietly in the old dialect, “Do not worry. Edith will make all well, as she has before.”
       But even Walter knew she could not be unveiled. It would be too great a blow to her mystique, and dangerous if Sir Giles saw her.
       How can I keep my word and still be unknown?
      Hoodman blind - the answer flew to her lips and she spoke. “I will agree to all these terms, squire, on one condition. Your lord must agree to be blind-folded. It is the custom in my land that only a bride and married women may appear unveiled. If he will be blind-folded within my tent, then we may exchange a kiss of peace.”
     He will never agree. He will not agree and my people and I will remain safe.

Edith gripped the edge of the table, feeling as if her whole world was see-sawing. "He does what?" she whispered.
     "He agrees to your terms, my lady," gasped the squire. He was still short of breath, having run hard up the field. "He asks that you have the cloths ready when he comes presently."
     He bowed out of her presence and Edith sank into her crouch, holding her head. She felt dizzy with a kind of thumping dread and a dazed anticipation. "He is coming now? What will I do? What should I do?"
     "Kiss him and be done," said Teodwin curtly. "Will you have Sir Tancred admitted? He is hovering outside, even now."
     "No!" She wanted no one to witness this. Wait - did I not say to Ranulf earlier that Sir Tancred was my chaperone? All these truths and half-truths! I cannot remember! "No, I mean, yes. Admit him, yes."

To see more, please see here:

When should a heroine tell lies?

2011-07-06T10:15:00.001+01:00

When is it OK for a heroine to lie?

In my latest, To Touch the Knight, my heroine, Edith, is a liar. She lies to save herself and her fellow-villagers. She makes an illusion in order to survive. Does that make her evil?

To me it does not. But heroines in romantic fiction tend to have less leeway than heroes.

Take a hero who sows his wild oats. That is seen as normal, possibly even considerate, as he will then be experienced when making love to the virginal heroine. But how many hearts has he broken on the way?

Take a hero who is driven, obsessed, vengeful. 'Yum yum!', perhaps, is the response of some romance readers. But I wonder what happens when that engine of revenge is spent. What then? And if the hero is obsessed will he not remain obsessive? That energy, once he and the heroine are together, may be diverted into other things. He will no longer be a driven lover, but what?

Can the truly vengeful have a happy ever after ending?

What of the heroine who is driven and ambitious? Why is that seen as something to be diluted in her but not in the hero?

As a romance writer, I love a happy ever after end. To ensure it I look forward into my characters' lives, projecting them far into their futures. Will they still be content in old age? Will their different characteristics still mesh?

When couples remain and stay together they tend to end any disputes with tolerance and laughter, a mutual appreciation and understanding. This is what I like to show in my romances - the start of that process.

So, as To Touch The Knight progresses, Edith realizes she can tell Ranulf the truth. That trust from her is vital.

Ranulf also realizes that his grief for his late wife is also laced by guilt and resentment that he needs to lose.

Edith accepts him and realizes he believes more in the church than she does. She respects that, even as she begins to question her own hard-headed, practical way of always looking at the world.

Ranulf accepts that she told lies and accepts why she did so. He forgives her - though to Edith he has nothing to forgive.

I'm with Edith. How about you?

'To Touch The Knight' now out!

2011-07-01T08:00:00.002+01:00

My latest Kensington medieval romance is now out and available for sale in shops and at ebook stores (UK paperback due in August). To Touch the Knight is set during the time of the Black Death, when almost a third of the people in Britain died due to the plague. It was a period of massive change and terror, but also, for the survivors, a chance for a better life. You can find more, including an excerpt and buy links, here.

'To Touch the Knight' at 'Heroes and Heartbreakers'

2011-06-14T17:18:00.000+01:00

Not long now - To Touch the Knight comes out in early July, and there's a long excerpt up today at Heroes and Heartbreakers.

And don't forget, A Knight's Enchantment still has a few days to run at $0.99c in the Amazon Kindle Sunshine Deals promotion!

New review for 'A Knight's Enchantment'

2011-05-27T11:28:00.000+01:00

Vicky at Sizzling Hot Books has given an enthusiastic review to A Knight's Enchantment this week, including some appreciative comments about my historical setting and the use of alchemy.

Read it in full here.

Sample Sunday - 'A Knight's Vow' : new excerpt

2011-05-22T08:00:00.000+01:00

Here is an excerpt from the first of my medieval historical romances, A Knight's Vow. In it, the hero and heroine are growing closer together.

Excerpt

She had filled out a little more in the last few days, lost that grayness under her eyes and in her face. In her new blue gown and with her hair streaming out behind her as they cantered over the downs, Alyson was more vivid than the fresh summer green of the trees, so bright to his eye after the muted, dusty colors of Outremer. She was more delicate than the scattered cowslips, speedwell and orchids that bordered the chalk track they were racing along, giving the horses their heads. She rode superbly - but then, what did Alyson not do superbly?

And she is mine. Guillelm wanted to utter a war-cry from sheer bravado, utter pride and joy. At the castle gate, one of his guards had asked if he was hunting today and he was, though not with hawk or dogs. His present quarry needed more subtlety, and patience. Patience above all, Guillelm reminded himself, thinking once more of Heloise of Outremer and her dreadful warning.

Desperate to avoid that fate with Alyson, he had planned this day as he might a military campaign and only prayed that his preparations would be to her liking. He knew the arts of war but less those of peace. How did an English lord entertain his lady?

He had taken food from the kitchen for them but now, as he spied a stand of oak trees where they might shelter from the midday heat and relax, he was unsure. As a girl, Alyson had enjoyed romping and eating out of doors but as a woman perhaps she would consider those things too unmannerly, even coarse.

‘I thought we might stop here, allow the horses to graze.’ Fool! It must be obvious that is only an excuse, he thought, scanning the sparse grass under the trees. ’If that is acceptable?’ he went on, compounding his error by actually asking permission.

Alyson nodded and reined in. Swiftly dismounting, perhaps so that she did not have to endure his touch, she knelt by one of the oaks. As he wondered what she was doing, Guillelm watched her take a worn knife from her belt and begin sawing at the bracket fungus growing at the base of the trunk.

‘This may be useful for my healing,’ she explained, lifting the fungus onto a clean scrap of cloth she had produced from somewhere about her person.

‘Healing is surely in God’s hands,’ Guillelm began, recalling old childhood tales of poisoned toadstools, but Alyson wrinkled her nose.

‘It may be, but Christ gave us wit and nimble fingers to aid ourselves,’ she said.

He knelt beside her and took her knife, plunging it into the grass.

That is a very round reply, mistress.’ Would she be teased by him, Guillelm wondered. Dare he tease?

The matter was resolved when Alyson thrust her tongue out at him.

If you enjoyed this sample, please comment or re-tweet it.

Castles wanted, preferably ruined

2011-05-18T15:35:00.002+01:00

This may be sentimental of me, but I'm a romantic and I rather like castles with a bit of wear on them. The well-kept ones like this one at Ludlow in Shropshire, have a rugged grandeur and give a lot more scope for a writer's research, but there's something about a ruin.

The one lurking behind me on my usual mugshot is a good case in point: Dunstanburgh has one of the best locations in the country - acres of green, little villages, wild Northumberland coast - but it wouldn't have the same charm for me if it was complete and shiny-new.

'Athelstan's Tower' at Exeter, where the Rougemont Castle site is a delectable public garden and the sandstone tower sits in the wall near the war memorial, is part of my husband's home-town memories.

The battered gatehouse of the old castle at Sherborne in Dorset- the town has two, the second later and swankier - breathes long-vanished adventure to me, even (maybe especially) in a dull and rainy autumn afternoon.

Nonsense for a medievalist, I know, but indulge me.

Medieval truth or dare: trial by ordeal

2011-05-04T09:35:00.002+01:00

Murders and other crimes happened in the Middle Ages but there was no formal police force and no forensics, no great interest in clues. So how did medieval people decide whether someone was guilty or innocent?

What mattered was what the community in which the crime took place thought. If you could produce witnesses you could vouch for your good character, and from Anglo-Saxon times status counted, so a thegn's evidence - like his life - was legally worth more than a churl's. Those accused of a crime who were unwilling to pay the standard fine could also hope to clear their names by swearing oaths to God - this was popular in the early Middle Ages and called ‘compurgation‘: a person accused of a crime swore on oath that he or she was innocent and often had a number of associates swear the oath with him to 'prove' guilt or innocence. This system was understandably open to abuse, so by the ninth century the church actively backed another way to reveal God's judgment in any crime - by means of the ordeal.

An ordeal was precisely that - a trial the accused could undergo to submit to the divine and so prove they were not guilty. The term ordeal has the meaning of "judgment, verdict" in old English and in the Middle Ages many believed they were genuinely submitting to the judgment of God.

In the ordeal of boiling water, a man would plunge his hand or arm into a cauldron of boiling water, after which the hand would be bound up, sealed with the seals of the church and then left. After three days the bandages would be removed and if the man showed signs of scalding he would be pronounced guilty.

There was also an ordeal by fire, where a person had to carry a red hot iron (weighing one pound in the late tenth century, or three pounds for the ‘threefold ordeal’) for a certain distance. Again the suspect’s hand was bound up and later examined to pronounce innocence or guilt. There were ordeals of cold water, similar to the later practice of ducking a witch. In the Assize of Clarendon in 1166, the law of England stated: "anyone, who shall be found, on the oath of the aforesaid [a jury], to be accused or notoriously suspect of having been a robber or murderer or thief, or a receiver of them ... be taken and put to the ordeal of water."

There was also ordeal by combat, also known as 'trial by battle', a way of ‘proving’ guilt or innocence that was much favoured throughout the Middle Ages. Introduced into England by the Normans, the earliest case in which trail by battle is recorded was Wulfstan v. Walter (1077), eleven years after the Conquest, possibly between a Saxon and a Norman. By the 12th century it was the way nobles would often settle disputes. The parties fought on a duelling ground and swore before they began that they had not used witchcraft to help them.

Women were usually banned from taking part in such trials but not always, a detail I exploit in my novel, A Knight’s Captive. In parts of Germany a woman might fight a man in a trial of battle if the man had one hand tied behind his back. Lepers were banned from fighting in ordeals but hired champions could sometimes be used - these were usually desperate men, since they could be killed in the ordeal of battle, or afterwards hanged or lose a hand or foot if they were judged to have lost. In medieval France the professional champion was seen in the same way as a prostitute.

Of all the ordeals, trial by battle remained in force the longest - it was not abolished in England until as late as 1819.

Interview at 'The Roses of Prose'

2011-04-30T16:11:00.000+01:00

I'm in the Saturday Spotlight at The Roses of Prose today, chatting about To Touch the Knight and other stuff. There's a giveaway, too, so why not pop over right away!

'A Rose of Midsummer' and other stories

2011-04-15T09:51:00.003+01:00

I've put five of my previously published short stories up as a collection today, so now they're available for download onto your ereader. They're light, romantic and only $1.99.

Details and links are here.

Devon in the spring again

2011-04-13T19:35:00.000+01:00

Around this time every year I try to get down to my inlaws in sunny Devon, and I made it last weekend. A very brief trip, too brief considering the six-hour drive each way and much too brief considering the hospitality. We did go for a companionable walk, since they're indefatigable ramblers and cyclers, and although the camera batteries ran out too early I still have one pic to show you.

The flower in the second picture is azalea precox and is always out very early, with the daffodils. Mostly it's at its best on my birthday in February, so I have a soft spot for it. I found it on the camera, so here it is - better late than never!

Phew! The streets of London, 14th-century style.

2011-04-06T18:39:00.000+01:00

Last night I watched a BBC2 programme about medieval London and its sanitation problems. Dan Snow's vivid and interactive account - there was a small scratch-card, supplied by the Radio Times, which I sniffed at the right moment - told me much I already knew but it was overwhelming seeing and smelling it all at once. By the 14th century, London was a city of over 100,000, a teeming, dark, filthy smelling and sewerage-filled place. I was fascinated by the platform shoes medieval Londoners wore to try to wade through the sloppy streets and also by the work of the gong farmers - cleaners armed with rakes and shovels, working at night, trying to clean the streets.

This was a gruesome account at times, especially when Dan spoke of the medieval butchers and tanners, and then the horrors of the Black Death, which raged in London for two years (1348-50) but I shall be watching again next week, when the series recreates the stench of pre-revolution Paris.

The last of the Anglo-Normans: The loss of the White Ship

2011-04-03T21:21:00.000+01:00

On November 25th, 1120, The White Ship was wrecked in a storm and sank in the English Channel. This terrible accident claimed over 300 lives and turned the course of English medieval history, since one of the victims was William 'the Atheling', seventeen years old and the only legitimate son of King Henry I of England and his queen Matilda, who had died two years before.

The White Ship was a modern vessel, a sturdy cog owned by Thomas FitzStephen, who was also on board, but the channel crossing from Normandy to England is treacherous, especially in winter. Henry's ship had already left Barfleur, on the north-western coast of France, in daylight, but when Fitzstephen's ship eventually sailed, after being loaded with more casks of wine, it was night. Worse, everyone on the ship was drunk. The ship struck a rock off Barfleur off the coast of north-western France and was wrecked. Only a butcher called Berthold from Rouen, on board to chase up payment, survived because the ramskins he was wearing saved him from exposure. Prince William and many of his friends, all young nobles, were drowned. Chroniclers of the time said that Thomas FitzStephen, knowing that Prince William was lost, allowed himself to drown rather than face King Henry.

At court, none of the barons dare tell the king. A child was finally sent with the terrible news. Henry fainted and afterwards was said never to smile again.

Henry, stricken with grief, also afraid for his crown. His other legitimate child, named Matilda like her mother, was a daughter and in the Middle Ages women were not thought capable of ruling without male help. The traditional role of a queen was as a help-meet of the king and an intermediary for petitioners seeking mercy from the king. She was not expected to rule alone. Aware of this, King Henry married again within 3 months of the sinking of the White Ship and the loss of his male heir, but had no further legitimate children.

Henry was terrified of the prospect of no obvious male succession to the English crown, won by his father William of Normandy at the battle of 1066 - the more so perhaps because he owed his own title of king to an 'accident' in the New Forest in August 1100 when his older brother, William Rufus, the King of England, was killed by an arrow while out hunting. Accident or assassination? It is still unclear but the younger brother, landless Henry, wasted no time in seizing the royal treasury and securing his position.

The death of William Rufus had favored him but the sinking of The White Ship threw his dynastic aims into turmoil. He attempted to extract promises of loyalty from his barons to his daughter Matilda, but some of the barons favored Henry's favorite nephew Stephen and when King Henry died in 1135, Stephen was crowned king of England in his place.

Matilda and her supporters saw this as a betrayal and both factions fought for their claims over England for over 20 years, a conflict which forms the backdrop for my novel A Knight’s Vow, set in 1138.

Had William not been traveling on The White Ship all those years ago in 1120, if he had lived and succeeded his father, England would have seen a different line of Kings - Anglo-Normans instead of the later Angevins. No Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, no Richard the Lionheart, no King John - all descended from Matilda's marriage to Geoffrey of Anjou.

'Night of the Storm' is now an ebook

2011-03-10T22:18:00.004Z

My 1996 Hodder title, Night of the Storm, has been out of print for a while, but no longer. I've uploaded it to Smashwords and it's yours for $3.99 in all the usual formats. Here's the link.

Readers of A Secret Treasure will recognise the Rhodes setting, though this is a full-length book blending suspense, romance and the wildlife smuggling trade.

'The earth glows again with flowers': a medieval spring

2011-03-01T11:26:00.000Z

Spring was a longed-for season in the middle ages. After the dark and cold of winter, the lengthening days, the increasing warmth of the sun, the first showing of fresh green growth and flowers, were all savoured. Spring was the time when Easter took place, one of the most important religious festivals in medieval times and also a celebration of new life and feasting after the long fasting of Lent.

Spring was when many plants were gathered to make dyes for clothes, to transform gowns and robes. New leaves, lichens, flowers and mosses were all gathered.

People would go walking in the woodland and meadows, relishing the time outdoors. Primroses, used to decorate church altars in May to honour the Virgin Mary, were seen as the first flowers of spring. Later in spring, cowslips were gathered an made into balls by young women, keen to forecast the name of their future husbands by tossing the cowslip ball among each other while calling out men's names. When the ball fell at the feet of a girl, that could be a sign that Martha could be marrying a Tom later - and so on.

Spring flowers were also used to flavour ale or wine or food - wild garlic could be used to make garlic sauce to add variety to the very bland diet of pottages. Herbs such as rosemary were made into posies, believed to help combat the plague. Daisies, prized for their whiteness, were also used in posies.

To rid themselves of worms and other internal parasites, medieval people gathered spurge, and to supplement their sometimes meager diets men and women would gather young salad leaves from the hedgerows, such as salad burnet, sorrel, hawthorn shoots, wild radish, mint and more.

Spring was seen as a joyous season, much celebrated in poetry (my title comes from the same manuscript as the Carmina Burana), but I’ll leave that for another time.

A real medieval woman

2011-02-16T13:13:00.001Z

I read a lot of books of social history, naturally enough. I'm reading one now about the life of a medieval woman, Cecilia Penifader: A Medieval Life: Cecilia Penifader of Brigstock, c. 1297-1344, by Judith Bennett.

This is a fascinating account of one of the lesser-known groups in the middle ages - a peasant, and moreover a peasant woman. Of all the groups in medieval society, the peasants - 'those who work' - are the least known to us via their own words, because few were literate. Detailed lives such as this one redress the balance and take us into a distant, living past, drawn from court and manorial documents.

Cecilia, we learn, was sometimes known as Cissa. Isn't that lovely! I find the centuries drop away at that intimate detail.

She had three brothers and four sisters. She never married, survived the great famine of the early 1300s, sometimes stole from her neighbours and lived in Brigstock, a village in Oxfordshire, all her life. Through her we learn about daily life, the church year, the work of the seasons, and more.

I've written about a day in the life of a medieval peasant woman today for Unusual Historicals. Please read it here.

This weekend I'm taking part in a Valentine's Party

2011-02-11T21:04:00.000Z

This weekend I'm taking part in a Valentine's Party at The Long and the Short of It Blog http://lasrguest.blogspot.com/ and the Goddess Fish Promotions Blog http://goddessfishparty.blogspot.com/. Please come see - there are lots of authors taking part and it should be fun.

'To Touch The Knight' available as a pre-order

2011-02-02T08:39:00.001Z

My next Kensington medieval romance is due out in July and available now for pre-order. To Touch the Knight is set during the time of the Black Death, when almost a third of the people in Britain died due to the plague. It was a period of massive change and terror, but also, for the survivors, a chance for a better life. You can find more, including an excerpt and buy links, here.

'A Knight's Enchantment': new review

2010-12-30T16:10:00.017Z

In the post this morning came this enthusiastic new review of my latest knight book:

'It's Spring of 1210 in England, and plucky alchemist Joanna of Glastonbury faces a desperate situation. With her father as prisoner, unscrupulous Bishop Thomas is demanding she create an elixir for eternal life in exchange for her father's freedom. Meanwhile, Sir Hugh Manhill's brother, Knight Templar David Manhill, is the bishop's prisoner, as well. And so Hugh takes Joanna captive, hoping he can use her release as a bargaining chip with the bishop - Joanna for his brother. Will Joanna and "hot and dangerous" Hugh fall in love in this 13th century romance? Certainly, but only after an entertaining round of fights, sassy dialogue, and smouldering sex scenes drawing to a satisfying conclusion as the pair join forces to thwart the bishop and rescue their loved ones. Author Lindsay Townsend handles the book's historical details with skill. Particularly well-done are the secondary characters who round out this tale of love and desire in medieval England.'

- Alana White in the print edition of Historical Novels Review (November 2010)

Medieval people and their pets

2010-12-19T19:27:00.000Z

In the Middle Ages women and men often doted on their pets. In York Minster, there is a portrait of the lap dog of Lady Margaret Roos, rendered in stained glass. The dog looks happy and sleek, with a belled collar. In the picture here of Tobias and Sara, a window of about 1520 from Cologne, the couple's pet dog is a sleepy symbol of wedded tranquillity.

In other drawings of medieval pets, the British Library has a manuscript showing a woman with a pet squirrel while the Luttrell Psalter shows a collared pet squirrel as a sign of status.

Birds were also popular. Jays and magpies - called 'pies' - were kept in cages and taught to copy speech. Larks and nightingales were kept for their sweet songs.

Cats in the Middle Ages were kept mainly as mousers, and also, more grimly, for their fur and skins. Yet cats were also treasured. Exeter Cathedral lists in its accounts from 1305 to 1467 the sum of a penny a week to feed the cathedral cats if the animals did not catch many mice in the main church.

Dogs remained a favourite - so much so that nunneries tried and failed to ban the keeping of dogs as pets in various convents. Nuns were warned not to bring their pets into church and the pets included dogs, hunting dogs, rabbits, squirrels, birds and even monkeys.

Hunting dogs and hawks were not officially pets, being used to hunt and bring extra food for the table and to provide sport and entertainment to their lords and ladies. However, hawks were also massive status symbols, given as kingly gifts and well-known as signs of wealth and power. As such they were pampered and displayed - so much so that perches were even brought indoors to their owners could have their falcons with them. In 1368 the Abbot of Westminster, Nicholas de Litlington, bought a wax image of a falcon to offer at the altar to help a sick falcon recover. Lay men and women often brought their pets into church - the men with hawks on their wrists and women with lap-dogs.

Breeds of pets changed over time and some are unknown to us now. Medieval man in particular had a passion for hunting and bred horses and dogs for that activity. There were horses bred for stamina and long chases through woodland after quarry, sturdy beasts called coursers (chasers) And as a hunting dog, the big, deep-chested, long-legged alaunt was much prized.

The alaunt makes an appearance in my third knight book, A Knight's Enchantment. You can read an excerpt here.

An early Christmas present? 'Flavia's Secret' free at Bookstrand

2010-12-03T14:25:00.003Z

Bookstrand have Flavia's Secret on offer as a free ebook from today until Valentine's Day. If you haven't tried one of my books yet, here's a chance!

For details of the book and the free download, go to:
http://www.bookstrand.com/flavias-secret .

Update (December 7): Many of my other Bookstrand titles are now available for a mere $2.99.

Time for some random autumn pictures....

2010-10-23T19:03:00.000+01:00

No excuses. I thought it was time for another picture blog.

Women do it better: The Bayeux Tapestry

2010-10-04T11:26:00.000+01:00

Men fought and died in England in the battle of Hastings in 1066. The kingdom and crown passed to a foreigner, William of Normandy.

This event is recorded in spectacular detail by the Bayeux Tapestry, made by women. There are only a few women shown on the tapestry in this story of feudal rights and obligations, claims, counter-claims and war, but scholars now agree that women made it.

The 'tapestry' is in fact an embroidery, done on strips of linen joined together to form a huge running narrative of the events leading up to and beyond the decisive battle. The seven joints are done with great skill and are almost invisible. At one time the tapestry was even longer, but the end is now damaged and incomplete. However the rest is a stunning, detailed account, a unique primary source.

Who were the women who embroidered this massive tapestry? Evidence suggests they were English. Earlier French tradition claimed the tapestry had been embroidered by William's wife Matilda, but what seems increasingly likely is that the piece was made in England as a gift for the new queen.

English female embroiderers were famous throughout Europe for their wall-hangings and church garments. Earlier English queens, such as Edith, were acclaimed for their skill as embroiders. A wall hanging made by English embroiders, showing the defeat of the English at the battle of Maldon in 991, was given to the monastery at Ely by the defeated leader's widow, Aelflaed, as a memorial to the English dead. The Bayeux Tapestry may have partly served as a memorial to the English dead and have even been stitched by some English widows at either Winchester, the seat of the court and government in Anglo-Saxon England, or Canterbury, or the nunnery at the Minster in Sheppey in Kent - all famed centres of English embroidery. In some cases we may even know their names, such as the woman Leofgeat, who in 1086 in the Domesday Book is described as doing gold embroidery for the king.

Gold was not used in the Bayeux Tapestry, but wool thread dyed sage green, blue-green, red, buff and blue were stitched on the linen using an outline and stem stitch, then laid and couched stitches, making the whole stand out in low relief, like a sculptor’s frieze. The figures are active and the tumult of the battle is shown. The English warriors with their moustaches and longer hair are picked out, and the Normans with their cropped locks, and several of the key moments of 1066 are there – Halley’s comet, as a presager of trouble, William, lifting up his helmet to reveal his face and prove he’s still alive, and the climax of the battle, where Harold is felled by the arrow.

A woman is also behind a faithful facsimile of the tapestry. In 1885 Elizabeth Wardle saw the original at Bayeux and, along with 35 other women, was inspired to produce a copy, to be housed in England. This is now kept at the museum in Reading, England.

The fame of English embroidery led me to make Sunniva, the Anglo-Saxon heroine of A Knight's Captive, amongst her other talents a skilled seamstress.

Medieval cooking and 21st-century schools

2010-09-05T16:10:00.000+01:00

The BBC website has an interesting piece today about a project bringing a taste of medieval diet to some schools in Yorkshire, history and health lessons all in one. Funded by the Wellcome Trust, the plan is to highlight the differences between medieval food - high in grains and vegetables for the poor, more meat and spices for the rich, and no snacking! - with the food we eat now.

I've been away... in Derbyshire

2010-08-25T13:08:00.013+01:00

We managed to go away this weekend for a flying visit over the border into deepest Derbyshire. It's a beautiful county if you love little woods, rivers, fields and 'curvy' landscapes - which we do. It's fertile and rich in history, too - ancient history with its sacred springs and more recent with its scattering of medieval, Tudor and Georgian houses, of which Chatsworth and Haddon Hall are two of the more famous.

We stayed (technically just over the county boundary in Staffordshire) at Mayfield Hall, where we had a room with a four poster - very comfortable and very high! - and a date of '1608' over the fireplace.

We roamed a little - to the pretty village of Tissington, with its holy wells that are dressed with flowers each spring, its ancient church and handsome hall. There was a craft fair on in the village hall, so of course the cash came out for fancy soaps, woodwork and a small framed print.

Otherwise we chilled out - watched the swifts, wandered the local paths and nipped into Ashbourne in the rain to have a look round and tuck away a tasty Chinese lunch.

I'm certainly looking at Derbyshire now as a setting for one of my novels!

UK Kindle editions

2010-08-05T09:49:00.002+01:00

Good news for UK readers! Amazon Kindle editions are now available from their UK site, so I've updated my book pages with the new links. All the Kensingtons and almost all the Bookstrands are available, including one or two not previously sold in the UK in any form. You can find them all listed here.

'A Knight's Enchantment': review roundup

2010-07-26T09:34:00.003+01:00

I've been delighted at some of the reviews my latest medieval has been gathering:

Night Owl Reviews have just made it a Top Pick. Terri says she'd like to see more about the characters because she's still thinking about them and goes on, 'I believe Ms Townsend has raised the bar for this era for many of her fellow authors.'

Lauren Calder at Affaire de Coeur writes: 'Ms. Townsend sneaks into the heart of the reader and continually snags them with her enchanting story, feisty characters, and blushing romance.'

'Joanna and Hugh', writes CinLee at Romance Junkies, 'are a sweet couple that the reader can’t help but take to heart.'

Linda Sole at Red Roses for Authors concludes: 'This is an earthy, passionate romp through medieval England and keeps the reader on the edge right to the last. Townsend has warmth and a way of bringing a scene to vivid life so that in turning the pages the reader is transported to another place and time.'

The difference of historicals

2010-07-04T13:52:00.005+01:00

I've drawn the winners of my latest contest, and copies of A Knight's Enchantment are on their way to the lucky three. Now I'd like to point out a few ways in which historicals are - well, different. I love reading historical novels of all genres and I love to write them, so are my five 'star' points that I look out for in the stories that I really enjoy.
　
1. Realistic reactions. In the past, the roles and pressures on people were different to now and a good historical reveals this. Women's liberation as a movement did not emerge until the late 1960s. Women (and working class men) did not acquire the vote in Britain until the early 20th century. Before then, the role of women was determined by family and peer pressure, by the church, by society's expectations, by class and above all by biology. (My great-grandmother had 14 pregnancies, 12 births, 2 miscarriages. In the days before reliable birth-control, women often spent their child-bearing years doing just that.)

In earlier warrior societies, where brute strength was prized as a means of winning booty, only a very unusual woman would be big enough and strong enough to fight as an equal warrior. Remember, food would often be in short supply and the sons and men ate first, not simply because of their higher status but because of survival. Men are generally more physically strong in pushing heavy ploughs, and so on. They needed to be well-fed.

2. Realistic dress. Fashion and past fashions is a fascinating business to me, but in a good historical dress also reveals class and tactile elements. A heroine who is changing her gowns every chapter may not be realistic. Clothes were costly and time-consuming to make. Fashions in the country would be less cutting edge than those of the city. Even cloth and colours would vary - the rich would have access to silks and more expensive dyes.

3. Realistic settings. How people lived in the past is very different from modern-day life (at least in the developed parts of the world) and that is worth showing in a historical. The daily trudge for water would be part of someone's life, as were the anxious waiting on crops and the hunger experienced while the harvest slowly ripened. In an unscientific age the fear of the unknown affected everyone - was the hail storm the sign of an angry god? Was a sudden illness in the village the result of witchcraft? If illness is not understood, then the evil eye becomes as good a reason as anything else. If 'everybody knows' that disease comes from the stench of the gutter, it becomes understandable to protect your cottage from pestilence by growing fragrant roses around the door.

4. Realistic plotting. In the past, communications were a major problem. In a world without the internet, battles could be lost because the flanks of an army literally could not talk to each other. A messenger could take days to ride or run from one part of any country to another. There were no policemen in ancient Greece, where the family was expected to take revenge and seek redress if any one of their people was murdered or injured. A good historical is aware of these difficulties and exploits them.
　
5. Realistic names. Sorry, but - unless the story is fantasy or timeslip - in a story set in 10th century AD somewhere in western Europe, or in China or India, 'Brad' or 'Chantelle', although pretty names, simply don't fit the places or the period and pull me out of the story.

Those are my 5 key points. What are yours?

'A Knight's Enchantment' contest - two questions, three prizes

2010-06-21T13:35:00.017+01:00

I have three signed copies of A Knight's Enchantment to give away to the three lucky winners of my instant quiz. All you have to do to get your name in the battered straw hat is to answer one of these questions based on my previous 'Knight' books:

1. In A Knight's Vow, what is the name of the castle where Alyson lives?

2. In A Knight's Captive, who is the saint whose shrine Sunniva and Marc are on pilgrimage to visit?

Simple! Just email me a correct answer by midnight on June 30, 2010 and enchantment could be yours...

P.S.: To stop the answers being given away on the blog and spoiling the fun, I've disabled comments on this post.

'A Knight's Enchantment' published today!

2010-06-01T08:00:00.001+01:00

My historical romance, A Knight's Enchantment, is released today by Kensington Zebra. This is my third knight novel, the other two being A Knight's Vow and A Knight's Captive. They take place in different time periods and different places, but all have knights as their heroes.

For me the appeal of a knight isn't his shining armour or his wealth. It isn't even the knightly code which he would be supposed to follow: too often in the middle ages, such ideas of courtesy and honour applied only to the nobility and no one else. But a knight as a protector - now that appeals.

My heroines, too, are great rescuers. In A Knight's Enchantment, Joanna is striving to free her father from captivity and throughout the novel she 'rescues' the hero Hugh, prompting him to reconsider many part of his life and his relations with his family.

Their early encounters are fraught, as neither is sure they can trust the other and Hugh especially makes wrong-headed assumptions about Joanna. He has his own powerful reasons for seizing her, but his self-justifications are flawed. Later he realises and admits this and they join forces.

You can find more details, the 4-star Romantic Times review and an excerpt here.

Setting the scene for 'A Knight's Enchantment'

2010-05-13T13:00:00.001+01:00

One of the pleasures of writing historical fiction is the chance to explore the way places were hundreds of years ago, so, as part of my background research for A Knight's Enchantment, I paid a visit to the West Country.

Templecombe, where some of my scenes are set, is one of those thousands of English villages with a quiet present and a busy past, sitting in a land of wide green valleys and warm golden stone on the Somerset/Dorset border with the abbey towns of Shaftesbury to the east, Sherborne to the west and Bath to the north. A main road cuts through it, trains belting along the main line between London and Penzance occasionally stop at its tiny station, and that, to the casual eye, appears to be about it.

Go back a thousand years and the place is different. Domesday Book records that Odo of Bayeux was given the land around here by his half-brother William I of England, the Conqueror, and a century later, in 1185, his descendent Serlo fitz-Odo gave part of it to the Knights Templar. Since the Templars were not only a monastic order but a fighting one, they needed not only a church (St. Mary's, at the top of the village) and a preceptory for spiritual training (where a seventeenth-century building, Manor House, now stands on the High Street), but space for military manoeuvres, sword play, working with warhorses. No sign of this remains, though the archaeologists of Channel Four's Time Team programme spent a frenzied few days in 1996 trying to discover more evidence for the Templars' activities.

In spite of the importance of Templecombe to the Order, which used it as a base for Templars throughout the West Country, their habits of frugality, modesty and secrecy have left little behind, except for one thing. In the 1950s a painting came to light hidden in the roof of a local cottage. Dated to around 1280 AD, it shows the face of a man, possibly Christ or John the Baptist.

Love and magic in the Middle Ages

2010-05-03T14:12:00.010+01:00

Imagine you're a young medieval lady and a young man creeps up, whacks you three times over the head with a hazel stick inscribed with the magical incantation pax+pix+abyra+syth+samasic and tries to kiss you. It sounds a touch desperate these days, but in the Middle Ages this was seriously suggested as a way for a man to get a woman to fall in love with him.

Medieval lovers tried subtler ways, too - spells, charms, amulets and potions - to win the affections of those they desired, all in defiance of the church, which objected to magical interference with a man's or woman's free will.

Love magic was practised and feared by all sections of medieval society, including royal courts. This is reflected in the stories of the time. In the romance of Tristram and Iseult, the couple fall in love because they accidentally drink a love potion intended for Iseult and her betrothed, King Mark. In the story The Two Lovers, composed in the late 12th century by Marie of France, a suitor must carry his beloved up a high mountain before he can marry her. Too proud to drink the magic potion that will give him strength, he completes his quest by the power of love - even though he dies of exhaustion afterwards!

A possibly Viking love spell that has passed into folklore in northern England is a custom where on certain nights unmarried girls chant: 'Hoping this night my true love to see,/I place my shoes in the form of a T'. T surely stands for Thor, the Norse god for storms and also for marriage, the idea being that the girl would then dream of her future husband.

Men and women in the Middle Ages also believed in a multitude of herbs and spices to bring them luck in love. Caraway was used in love potions, as were cloves, coriander and mallows. Garlic and ginger were believed to inspire lust and so good sex. Valerian mixed with wine was claimed to make even the most pure woman lustful. And in Italy, women would wash their eyes with the diluted juice of the deadly nightshade to increase the size of their eye pupils and appear more beautiful (which is why nightshade is known as belladonna.)

In medieval England guests to a wedding would bring small cakes and pile them into the middle of the table. The bride and groom would try to kiss over the cakes for good luck.

In northern Europe, it was the custom to supply a newly married couple with enough mead for a month, to ensure their happiness and fertility - hence our term 'honeymoon'. If a man had problems with virility in bed, it was often assumed he was bewitched and the couple was advised to remove any evil charms that might be placed under or near the bed, such as the testicles of a rooster. Once these were removed, the man should be free of the curse. To drive a woman wild with desire, it was believed that mixing ants' eggs into her bath would do the trick. Hmm.

'A Knight's Enchantment' gets four stars from Romantic Times

2010-04-29T08:36:00.009+01:00

The first review of A Knight's Enchantment is in, from the June issue of Romantic Times, and it lifted my day:

'Townsend's newest book, with its back-drop of political and religious intrigue and mayhem, delivers a romance not soon to be forgotten. With characters of great depth and emotion, torn between familial responsibilities and their deepening love, this explosive tale will bring joy and fulfillment to readers.

'Joanna of Glastonbury, an alchemist, is forced to create gold for an elixir of eternal life to save her father's life as a prisoner of the corrupt Bishop Thomas. To her surprise, she is taken captive by the knight Hugh Manhill when he accosts the bishop in an attempt to ransom his brother, a Templar, from the bishop. After escaping, he and Joanna begin to feel deep emotional desires for each other. Knowing they cannot succeed alone, they join forces to free the prisoners. The stunning climax will bring them peace.' Four stars - Kathe Robin.

The link to RT is here.

RT nomination for 'A Knight's Captive'

2010-04-26T19:01:00.005+01:00

I'm delighted to say that A Knight's Captive was chosen among the select band of nominees for the Best Historical Novel category in the Romantic Times 2009 Reviewers' Choice Awards this month. I'm tickled pink to have been shortlisted, and congratulations to Tessa Dare, who won.

The list of all the nominees and winners is here.

'Secret Treasure' audiobook out today

2010-04-16T17:15:00.004+01:00

Audiolark have just released their audiobook of A Secret Treasure, so now my Greek island romantic mystery comes with the friendly, engaging voice of its reader, Melissa Malone. And all for $12.99....

Update: A Secret Treasure and Holiday in Bologna can also now be bought together in one paperback under the title Summer Duet.

Women and alchemy

2010-04-07T08:00:00.001+01:00

Everyone knows that alchemy is the art of turning base metals into gold. It was also seen as a pursuit of divine knowledge and immortality. From its very beginning in the ancient world, alchemy was seen either as a glorious search for truth or as a means for charlatans to hoodwink money out of gullible patrons. Such dabblers in the art were known unkindly as 'puffers' - from the bellows often used in alchemy in the heating of substances - and were despised by the more serious students of alchemy.

In my forthcoming A Knight's Enchantment the heroine, Joanna, is an alchemist. From earliest times, when the strange ‘science’ of alchemy developed, women became alchemists. They were as respected as men in this profession and several were particularly revered. Many powerful and influential women studied alchemy, including the countess of Pembroke Mary Sidney, Queen Christina of Sweden and even Marie Curie.

Why were women drawn to alchemy? Famous and successful alchemists tended to be long-lived - usually far longer than the average life-span. That and the prospect of riches may have drawn some, though alchemical thinking also attracted the religious and mystical such as Hildegard of Bingen. In part, too, women may have been intrigued by alchemy because they were accepted and respected in it. The feminine principle was acknowledged in alchemy - many saw nature itself as female and today doctors still used the alchemical symbol for copper, a soft, malleable metal, for woman.

Women were also given credit for their alchemical work and inventions. One of the most famous, called the 'Mother' of alchemy, was Maria the Jewess, who lived in the first or second century AD, possibly in Alexandria. She recognized the importance of changes in color in chemical and alchemical reactions and is credited with inventing a still used for distillation and also the balneum mariae (bain-marie); a water bath that is kept at a constant heat via a kettle or cauldron. A contemporary of Maria was Kleopatra, who likened the growth and progress of alchemical work to a baby growing in a womb.

Women could also be married to alchemists and help them in their work. Nicholas Flamel, a famous medieval alchemist who lived for a time in Paris, was assisted in his work by his wife Perenelle and, when their experiments in alchemy brought them wealth, they jointly founded hospitals.

When so many professions were closed to women in the past, perhaps it is not surprising that some chose to pursue this most secret and at the same time most fascinating of arts.

[Colour picture from The Alchemy Website, others from Wikimedia Commons.]

Having a quiet Easter...

2010-03-31T13:00:00.010+01:00

It's Easter Bunny time. Our model today is Smokey, a Netherland Dwarf, one of a long line of rabbits owned and cared for by my nephew Tom Underwood down in Devon.

Apart from being healthy, inquisitive and housetrained, Smokey clearly had immaculate taste in reading. On the top shelf are some of my English editions, including Chasing Rachel, which is coming out again this year in a revised download from Bookstrand.

In fact, the edits for Chasing Rachel turned up this morning, so I know how I'm going to be spending Easter. It has to be more relaxing to be a bunny.

Carols and capering: medieval dance

2010-03-30T16:15:00.003+01:00

Four husbands into her career, Chaucer's Wife of Bath was still young and a lively soul, 'yong and ful of ragerie,/Stibourn and strong, and joly as a pie [magpie]./How koulde I daunce to a harpe smale,/And singe, ywis, as any nightingale,/Whan I had dronke a draughte of sweete wyn!' So how would she have danced?

Dancing in circles has gone on for who knows how long, and the medieval carol - a circular dance and the songs that went with it - was popular with everybody but the church. The songs, involving a leader who sang the verse, music from harp, pipe and tabor or the vielle (a predecessor to the violin) and the dancers providing the chorus, could get distinctly rowdy, and clerics could impose sanctions against those who moved in an unseemly fashion or sang colourful lyrics in churchyards.

The lyrics from early carols are hard to come by, but one popular carol from the thirteenth century, Angelus ad virginem, whose English version begins 'Gabriel fram Heven-king/Sent to the maide swete', has a bouncy tune ideal both for accompaniment with pipe and tabor and for the circular carol-dance. The music can be heard here, and possible steps have been suggested here.

Many dances thought of as medieval - such as the basse danse, branle and pavane - really belong to the Renaissance, when the first collections of dance music were made, but we can trace some formal dances like the saltarello, with its triple time and extravagant hop, back to the thirteenth-century.

If a solo dancer or tumbler took part in social dancing, there could be some seriously gymnastic capering. The sight of women dancing on their hands may have led to an emphasis on modesty in later instruction books such as Guglielmo Ebreo's fifteenth century Art of Dance, but in earlier times things were more freewheeling. A poem from the Benediktbeuren Manuscript of c.1230 ('Obmittamus studia') has a young student longing to abandon his lessons and go down into the street to watch the maidens dancing, 'white limbs moving/Light in wantonness,' as Helen Waddell translated it. Now that would have appealed to Chaucer.

Prisoners in the castle: dungeons and oubliettes

2010-03-23T15:36:00.008Z

Medieval castles and dungeons tend to go together in people's imaginations and I have set important scenes in A Knight's Enchantment in a dungeon, where the heroine Joanna's father is being held. What we imagine as a typical dungeon, however - dark, underground, no windows, lots of chains - was less common in the Middle Ages than is assumed.

Take the word 'dungeon'. Its earliest form, donjon, meant a keep or tower, a strong defensive position. Over time that tower has been taken to mean a prison, often
underground in a castle. This form of prison was in fact an oubliette (meaning 'forgotten place') and was far darker and more grim than a dungeon, as can be seen in the photo of the oubliette in the castle at Warwick.

Famous dungeons include the Tower of London and those at Pontefract Castle and Alnwick Castle, though true dungeons in castles were not usual until later in the Middle Ages.

Often noble prisoners, captured and held for ransom in the dungeon, would be kept in a secure, comfortable place within the host's castle: certainly the room would be well-guarded, but we should not picture a Richard the Lionheart or Charles of Orleans languishing in the rat-infested, damp stone cell of imagination. Life expectancy in an oubliette would be short, and bad for the ransom business. 'Common' prisoners might be kept in gate houses, while those considered undesirable and disposable but not to be actually murdered could end up down with the rats in the oubliette.

DABWAHA 2010

2010-03-19T12:30:00.012Z

Having been away for a while, I only discovered this morning that Blue Gold was chosen to participate in DABWAHA 2010, run by Dear Author and Smart Bitches, Trashy Books.

Whatever happens, I'm delighted to be nominated in some very strong company. If you want to take part in the voting, here's the link.

Here's the latest

2010-03-16T16:08:00.013Z

Time rushes by! A Knight's Enchantment will be in the bookstores in late May/early June, which is not so far away now spring has sprung. To introduce the hero and heroine, I've posted a chunk from chapter one as an excerpt and you can read it here. I've also now sent off my fourth knight novel to Kensington, called A Knight's Prize.

In that connection, I'm working on a short blog about medieval dancing that will appear at the end of this month on Unusual Historicals.

There's an All Romance Ebooks party coming up and I'm offering Flavia's Secret as a door prize.

The audio version of A Secret Treasure comes out on April 12 from Audiolark and an electronic edition of my contemporary romantic suspense set on Dartmoor, Chasing Rachel, will be coming out some time this year from Bookstrand. More about that when I have it.

Moments in time: those magic moments

2010-02-14T08:00:00.005Z

We all have 'magic moments' in our lives - those times when time itself seems to stand still and we are truly overwhelmed with joy: when we find our soul mate and recognise each other, when a child is born, when our love returns safely from a long journey. The happy exchange of flowers and other gifts, chosen with care and thought. Or that first loving kiss - and then others, and more.

Life is made complete by such moments.

Story and myth also has magic moments. Here are some of my favourites from well-known fairy stories and myths.

When the prince finds the glass slipper in Cinderella.

When Beauty tells the Beast she loves him and he is transformed.

When Gerda rescues Kai in the Snow Queen.

When Penelope tricks Odysseus into revealing who he is - by tricking him into describing their very unusal bed - and reunites with him at the end of The Odyssey.

Here are my magic moments - what are yours?

If you want to read about more 'Moments in Time' please go along to Classic Romance Revival. We are having a blog carnival event for Valentines, and there are prizes to be won! As a chance to win any one of my ebooks - which you can see down the right hand side of the blog and read excerpts - then please answer the following question -

How does Penelope trick her husband Odysseus into revealing who he is?

EMAIL ME the answer to lindsaytownsend@yahoo.co.uk and your name will go in the competition hat to be drawn. If you also go to the Classic Romance Revival blog and the other blogs listed in the blog carnival, you will have chances at many more prizes, including a 'grand prize'.

Happy Valentine's Day and Good Luck!

Historical Novel Society review of 'Blue Gold'

2010-02-09T10:20:00.005Z

I've recieved an excellent new review of Blue Gold from Steve Donoghue at the Historical Novel Society:

'Early on in Blue Gold, Lindsay Townsend’s fast-paced novel of ancient Egypt in 1560 B.C., the charismatic (and acrobatic) Pharaoh Aweserre shouts in battle: “I’m the best there is! You’re looking at a man who can drive between your wind and your ass — watch!” You can’t really resist that kind of invitation, but you know one thing for sure: Cecil B. DeMille this isn’t.

Townsend’s story centers on the Pharaoh Sekenenre, his scheming wives, his scheming children Kamose and Ahhotpe, and—in the book’s most innovative stroke—the multifaceted Egyptian deities themselves, especially the god of storms and upheavals, Set, whose immortal perceptions add spice to an already plenty spicy narrative:

He [Set] saw the lines of the future mapping out from this tiny room, yet he could not see exactly where they ended. No one, not even Ra, could do that. Endless beginnings: that was one of the gods’ functions.

The sands of Townsend’s Egypt are blood-soaked, and the halls of her palaces echo with lust and intrigue — and yet, the most interesting part of her novel is how real, how human all of her characters feel (even the supernatural ones). Even while you’re booing and hissing her villains, you’re fully informed as to their motives and might even sympathize a little. Part of this effect can be attributed to Townsend’s keen ear for dialogue and phrasing (when two characters kiss we’re told “their lips met with the greedy accuracy of lovers”) — and the effect is so strong that when all the book’s grandstanding and conniving and personal drama has concluded, readers will be mildly shocked to be reminded that the whole delightfully complicated business happened three thousand years ago. That’s praise indeed. -- Steve Donoghue'

The original is here, under the reviews for February 2010.

Busy, busy, busy

2010-02-05T13:34:00.006Z

I've been proof-reading my forthcoming A Knight's Enchantment. I've been finishing and editing my fourth Kensington 'knight' novel. I've been proof-reading Asphodel, a futuristic short story that is to appear in the forthcoming Cupid Diaries, out for Valentine's at Classic Romance Revival.

Now the proofs are done and I'm allowing my fourth 'knight' to rest before a final read through, after which I will send it to Kensington. So I have some time to unwind a little....

Here are ten things I do to relax:

1. Spend more time with those I love.
2. Read other writers, especially other genres.
3. Clean my house and cook - cakes, pasties, all the 'fun' things I don't feel I have time to make when I'm driving for deadlines.
4. Listen to music.
5. Go for walks, especially in woodland.
6. See and chat to my friends: coffees, lunches, the whole 'girlie' thing.
7. Weed the garden.
8. Grab a massage.
9. Have long baths.
10. Watch TV.

How do you unwind?

The Romance of far-away places

2010-01-06T17:55:00.003Z

Many writers I know write about their own local areas and places. I love to write about far-away places. The pull and lure of the unknown always intrigues me. So I either write about the past - a different kind of far-off place where manners, customs, fashions are all different, like my medieval and ancient world books - or I write about distant lands.

I love Yorkshire as a place to live. It's where most of my family are. I love the landscape and the people. Yet, in my writing, I find I am most excited by the glamour of the different. For me, the grass over the other side of the fence really is greener!

Having studied European history, I tend to be drawn to the lands of the classical Greeks and Romans. The light and dry heat of Greece always amazes me and the wild-flowers and ruins and the fiercely passionate people all inspire me. Italy is a country I love for its culture, food, mix of ancient and modern and sense of family. Both places to me seem ripe for romance and adventure: their men folk are often impossibly handsome and open and engaging. Very appealing!

I wrote about the Greek island of Rhodes in my sweet romance, A Secret Treasure and about Italy and especially Italian bread and sweets in my newly published Holiday in Bologna. This Christmas we had panettone as a cake, with soft mascarpone cheese. Delicious!

'Bronze Lightning' wins award

2009-12-27T18:01:00.005Z

A bit more good news to end the year!

My Bronze Lightning has won the main prize in Red Roses for Authors Christmas Awards.

Solstice: a ghost story for Christmas

2009-12-16T13:30:00.000Z

Last year I ran a ghost story at about this time, so I thought I'd do it again this Christmas. Since the inspiration came from one of Joseph Farquharson's dramatic snow scenes, I've accompanied it with one here. Prepare to be scared....

SOLSTICE

Ann pressed her chapped knuckles deeper into her old duffel coat. She was muddle-headed tonight, her head full of nonsense. Of course she was worried: who would not be? She must endure her hopes and - yes - her fears, endure this blistering cold. Brought up to lonely country self-reliance, Ann had learned early not to complain.

The vicar might have something to say if he knew she came back here at this time every year. He might have tried to stop her, if he'd known what she planned to do tonight.

Best to hurry, or she'd miss the boy.

Ann knew it was her child, her son by David. Peter had his father's loping walk, her own skill with animals. He might have been a shepherd like herself.

Come midwinter, he would appear on this stretch of Carter's Track. To send a child, his own son, to such a lonely place with only sheep for company! And David, always so careful....

The full story is free to read at Author's Den. Last year's ghost story, The Beach, is here.

...And here's another cover: 'Holiday in Bologna'

2009-12-05T10:01:00.008Z

Well, good things come in threes, so here's the cover for Holiday in Bologna, my sweet romance novella coming from Bookstrand in the spring.

I suggested a garden, and just look at all those roses!

Update: Bookstrand are listing this now for December 22nd, so it will be available for Christmas.

AudioLark cover for 'A Secret Treasure'

2009-12-03T18:14:00.005Z

This must be a week for lovely covers. Here's the one AudioLark have given to the audio version of A Secret Treasure - really warm and atmospheric!

Further details are here at AudioLark.

Just got the cover for 'A Knight's Enchantment'

2009-11-27T16:01:00.006Z

I've just this morning received the cover for my next Zebra medieval, A Knight's Enchantment, and I like it already!
Here it is, and the blurb is here.

Other bits of news: another romantic suspense shortie, Holiday in Bologna, comes out from Bookstrand as an ebook early next year and A Secret Treasure is getting the talking book treatment from AudioLark in the spring.

Four more stars (back in the spring) for 'A Knight's Captive'

2009-11-14T11:14:00.008Z

I've just found out about a four-star review for A Knight's Captive from Lauren Calder at Affaire de Coeur, which gave me a lift this morning. After a plot summary, it ends:

'Good solid writing and a steady paced tale draw the reader into the story. Ms. Townsend has a talent for entertainment and a flair for telling tales of knights in shining armor.'

You can find it in the March/April 2009 issue - many thanks to Destiny Blaine for sending me her copy!

Time for a roaring fire

2009-11-06T19:16:00.012Z

After a rainy and recession-dampened Bonfire Night in my neck of the woods, I began to think wistfully of enormous medieval fireplaces, logs cut from the woods by peasants in grubby tunics, the warm glow of a winter fire. Then I thought of a poem about firewood from the 1930s: '..Apple wood will scent your room,/Pear wood smells like flowers in bloom...'

Then I found this picture, February from the Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, which says it all, from the woodcutter in the top right to the fire in the bottom left, blissfully enjoyed by one well-mannered lady in full garb and two pretty unlaced individuals for whom underwear is an optional extra. Ah, the warmth of the open fire....

A romantic medieval fable

2009-10-21T18:51:00.008+01:00

Here's the start of a little romantic story for you, set somewhere in medieval England:

THE BRIDAL HOUSE

"Our fathers approve the match." He skimmed a pebble across the fish pond.

Alis watched the stone skipping across the water. Her heat-beat skipped like the stone and she prayed she was not blushing. "And you?"

She could not recall his name, but how could she not be distracted? She had woken and risen a maid, a spinster intent on learning. Now she was betrothed to this stranger.

"I am not displeased, Alis." He offered her his arm to assist her across the ditch - the parents had sent them off to admire the lord's new rabbit warren, to see the baby coneys, as her father had said. Could any symbol be more obvious? In a burst of resentment she ignored her betrothed's hand and jumped the ditch in a swirl of skirts.

The rest is free here at AuthorsDen. The picture was taken at Stokesay Castle in Shropshire.

An idle moment, just staring out of the window...

2009-10-06T19:09:00.005+01:00

It's autumn again, the wind is blowing the rain across the garden, and in the moments when I'm trying not to write, promo or otherwise earn a living, I can stare out of the window at the bird table. We've had two families of sparrows nesting in the hedge this year (about 500 of them, by the noise in the mornings in spring, but actually rather fewer), plus a blackbird clever enough to pinch the morello cherries and leave the stones attached to the twig. We have other regular visitors: hyperactive bluetits, a determined wren and a thrush of some sort.

I don't know how they find out (through Twitter?), but as soon as the nyjer seed goes into the feeder a goldfinch appears out of nowhere, followed by another, and they assault the stuff in pairs. A single fieldmouse also seems to live under the hedge and nip out to scoff any seed falling from the bird table.

A pair of delicately bewildered collared doves turns up sometimes, and a small gang of jackdaws, but the most regular patrons of the birdseed restaurant are two wood pigeons. One is sleek and obviously well fed, while the other is a bit scrawny and looks a bit downtrodden. We call them Scruffbag and Fatface, and while the sparrow contingent are out in the fields these two put away at least half the birdseed and bits of bread between them. One day Fatface will probably turn up with a doggy bag.

(Pictures from Wikimedia Commons.

Romantic Times gives four stars to 'Flavia's Secret'

2009-09-28T17:38:00.005+01:00

It's a year since Flavia's Secret came out, so I'm delighted to find this in the November issue of Romantic Times:

'The ancient locale that is now modern Bath lends a vivid backdrop to a tender love story surrounded by mystery, danger and deceit. Readers will appreciate Townsend's thorough research and fluid style. Well-written secondary characters complement the action.'

- Donna M. Brown

The full review is here.

'A Knight's Vow' reviewed at Historical Romance Club

2009-09-21T09:14:00.006+01:00

My A Knight's Vow has just got four stars at Historical Romance Club, who say:

'This story shows that even after years apart, when the boy becomes a man and the girl a woman, the affectionate nicknames still have meaning, the touches are still tender and the feelings genuine. While reading medieval books is never an easy task due to the detailed history that one expects to be part of, these books and especially this one in particular are worth the time and attention you give them. Enjoy!'

The full review is here.

Ritzy tote bag...

2009-09-04T13:24:00.007+01:00

Here I was this morning, rummaging for something strong, practical and pretty to carry my promotional/teaching/general paperwork in, and the postman came down the drive with a parcel. Inside was this lovely tote bag with A Knight's Captive on it. I'm off to my local college tomorrow morning for a meeting, so it will be used right away. Thank you so much, Debi in California (you know who you are)! You've perked up a wet and windy September morning.

Classic Romance Revival has a new website

2009-08-27T18:04:00.010+01:00

Classic Romance Revival, the mainstream romance readers' and writers' Yahoo group, has a splendid new website. If you want to check it out and discover what CRR might do for you, please go to

http://www.classicromancerevival.com

Historical romance and romantic suspense

2009-08-26T11:14:00.001+01:00

Why do I write romantic suspense and historical romance? I love both genres because I like writing adventure and action and characters under extreme stress. I suppose all my novels are romantic suspense novels as well as some being historical romance novels. In my Bronze Lightning there is a mysterious villain threatening the female lead whom she has to battle against and finally unmask - like a romantic suspense. My second 'big' ancient Egyptian novel Blue Gold has at its core a religious mystery: the protagonists have to discover the true nature of the god Set, a search which leads to many adventures in strange and exotic locations - romantic suspense element again. In my Flavia's Secret there is the mystery of the death of Flavia's beloved mistress and an enemy working against Flavia and Marcus. In A Knight's Vow, Alyson must battle with Fulk, who works against her both in secret and finally overtly. In A Knight's Captive, the hero and heroine are in conflict because the hero is Breton and the heroine is English - and this is 1066, when England was invaded by Normans.

I suppose all my novels are romantic because they all have this quest/search/adventure motifs. I think all romance genres have similar elements to each other. My first published novel, Voices in the Dark, has a saga element because there are families involved and trouble goes down the generations (this is also true of The English Daughter). The second novel, Night of the Storm , has two romances and is more a romantic suspense than a romantic suspense, as is my novella A Secret Treasure. In romantic suspense you must have the menace and suspense there as a continuous strand, alongside the equally important relationships in the novel. These relationships, particularly the romance between hero and heroine can be brought under stress, threatened and changed by the thriller elements of the novel. The thriller elements can give you wonderful reasons for characters to be brought into sharp conflict as they each suspect the other or maybe want to protect each other but can’t. This conflict is very entertaining for the reader and writer because it’s always life and death stuff and usually two characters at odds because they’re both right. You haven’t got them arguing for the sake of it. Their choices through the story at key points are also very pointed, very stark, with big consequences, and I like that, too. I guess I’m not subtle!

Romantic suspense writing and historical romance writing are both very active genres and I like to have both my female and male leads rescuing each other at key points through the story, whether in active terms or psychological terms. The search and rescue strands in my books are always very strong.

In my novels I also have a strong whodunit element. The whodunit is also a whydunit, as with novels of psychological suspense (which I suppose are more intense, more character-driven versions of romantic suspense, where the threats arise from internal kinks in the characters rather than any external forces, as there can be in romantic thrillers. In my Night of the Storm, the storm is a vital element, adding something unplanned and chaotic and a further test for my people. To get the whodunit part right I always spend a long time at the start of plotting any novel working out who the villain is and why. I work out motivations and give my people backstories which I know, even if they don’t appear directly in the novel. It can add depth and richness to characters and make them intriguingly ambiguous. The ambiguous Byronic-style anti-hero who turns out to be a good guy is a staple in these novels and great fun to write and read about.

You can do romantic suspense another way, too, as I did with Night of the Storm, where the heroine, Melissa, knew that the villain, Katherine, was engaged in illegal wildlife trafficking, but had to search for the evidence to prove it. I also added a very personal element for Melissa, in that she’s also searching for whoever murdered her partner Andrew. I find in romantic suspense that the big issue brought into focus by making it personal works very well. So in Voices in the Dark I had my hero searching for a war criminal who tortured members of her own family. Personal helps readers to identify, I think.

The other bonus I find with writing romantic thrillers is that you usually can have an exotic location, or moderately so. This isn’t just because the setting is appealing to readers, giving them a bit of escapism. Sometimes it’s useful for the plot, too. Italy is popular as a holiday destination and it also has regular corruption scandals, which meant my heroine in Voices in the Dark had a very good reason not to go rushing to the police at the start of her search. That question: why doesn’t the female lead go to the police? I find must always be answered in a modern romantic suspense. Again, I’d no problems in my second novel, because the climax of the novel takes place on a small Greek island, cut off from the authorities by a massive storm.

So to summarise: the recurring elements in my romantic suspense amd historical romance are:

1. Strong, active female lead and male lead. Both might have added internal psychological kinks to their natures, just to increase the mixture.

2. A problem that needs a quest or search to be resolved.

3. Exotic locations where the police cannot easily be present, so your people have to search and find out and also save themselves. (In historical settings the police may not exist.)

4. Whodunit element which has to be worked out, otherwise the leads may perish. That threat I find very engaging and a pleasure to write, as you can have a building series of climaxes and a really juicy ending.

5. Backstories that have a direct bearing on the present novel.

6. Characters that are grey, not black and white. Sometimes the male lead can seem a villain, sometimes the female lead can do seemingly bizarre things, which are later accounted for in the novel.

7. Lots of action and violence. Woman against nature, woman against woman, woman against man. I like writing both and was told to cut down on the torture sequences in Voices in the Dark.

8. Relationships that change, are built up or destroyed through the novel, often as a direct result of the thriller elements and threats of the story.

Lindsay
http://lindsaysbookchat.blogspot.com

Ancient world romance

2009-08-13T10:06:00.004+01:00

The Dear Author review of Blue Gold sparked off a thread on historical romance which brought up a lot of favourites set all over the ancient world. You can follow it here.

Men as Heroes

2009-07-17T13:38:00.015+01:00

Heroes - charismatic, caring, compelling. A great hero 'makes' a romance. There are bold heroes, quiet heroes, wounded heroes, heroes who become heroic, charming heroes, clever heroes... the list goes on.

To show what I mean, here is an action scene from my latest Kensington medieval, A Knight's Captive. It's mentioned by Kathe Robin of Romantic Times in her 4 Star review of my work. In it, the hero Marc acts as a hero should and rescues the heroine, Sunniva. (I love having my hero and heroine rescue each other!)

EXCERPT:

"Rot in hell and back!" Marc bawled, bringing his sword round in a close, lethal arc that raised sparks on the bastard's belt buckle and rent a bloody welt across his chest. "No sanctuary here - you are dead!"

He stamped on the jerking creature and raised his sword, aiming for the heart, when a low moan beside him had him tumbling to his knees to guard her. At the same instant, her two attackers crawled away, stumbling through the door and out.

Marc let them go. Dropping his sword, he gathered Sunniva into his arms, whispering over and over in Breton, "You are alive. Safe. Safe, my angel. Safe."

He had been so afraid she was harmed that having her trembling but whole beneath his hands was overwhelming. Tears stormed into his eyes, swiftly followed by rage.

Where was her father? Her brothers? Where were the useless escorts, meant to protect?

"Hush, hush," he crooned, rocking her back and forth as he struggled to keep his own grief and anger in check.

He dared not look at her too closely while he had tears in his eyes and looked so unmanned, but the warrior's sense in him told him she was not fatally hurt in the flesh. He could smell no blood or sickness on her and though she shook, she did not grimace or writhe in pain.

The injury to herself, however: her integrity, trust, humor, spirit - Marc furiously blinked away the moisture in his eyes as he prayed that Sunniva would soon recover and forget.

"King Christ, ruler of heaven, let her not be afflicted by night terrors, as my poor Isabella is. Let her know peace."

He should be raising the alarm, since none of the other fools of the pilgrim party seemed to have realized yet that anything was amiss. He should be returning to his own three. In a breath, his memory went back to the fire that had carried off his elder brother Roland and his wife: on that dreadful night he had cradled his niece Alde in his arms, even as he was now clutching Sunniva; he remembered how his and Alde's tears had mingled as they clung to each other.

Sunniva did not cling. She was still too stunned to do anything save take great gasping breaths and shiver. There was a dark, welling bruise on the left side of her cheek and her eye was puckering, threatening to close altogether. Tears had streamed down her face; he saw them glistening near her nose and quivering lips. Such a red, soft mouth -

"Do you hurt anywhere else?" he asked softly, relieved when she shook her head. Longing to wipe away her tears, he held her close.

BLURB:

A KNIGHT'S CAPTIVE. The perfect prison is in his arms...

In the year 1066, England struggles against Norman invaders, and two strangers cross paths on a pilgrimage fraught with peril - only to discover a love worth any danger....

Battle-weary Marc de Sens has never encountered a woman like Sunniva of Wereford: beautiful, brilliant, and miles above the curs who call themselves her kin. Alas, she is promised to another and Marc's obligation is to his three orphaned nieces. But when Sunniva's circumstances suddenly change, Marc learns the truth about her "betrothal"...

A rough-hewn knight so gentle with children intrigues Sunniva, who never knew a kind word or caring touch from any man until Marc rescued her from the grimmest of fates. When her loutish father and brothers are killed, Sunniva is finally free, but her troubles are far from over. Although Marc has appointed himself her protector, he has a dark secret - as well as an uncanny ability to disarm her completely...

Best wishes, Lindsay.

Crowning glories

2009-07-11T18:50:00.000+01:00

I admit it. I have a 'thing' about hair in my writing.

Not in real life. My hair is brown going grey and tough. It goes its own way and if it's cut 'wrong' then it will spike. I have it cut short and leave it alone. We get along fine. But in my romance novels, I love hair.

What colour will the herone's hair be? How long? Wavy? Curly? I always like to imagine my main female character's hair.

Many romance novels have blond or auburn haired heroines. Sunniva, my heroine from A Knight's Captive is a spectacular blond:

"Uncle Marc! Is she not as beautiful as the sun? That is what her name means. She is Sunniva, Sun-Gift. Do you not think she is like the sun?"

"Steady, little one. You will wake your sisters. But yes, you are right. She is most comely."

I kept in mind the meaning of her name all the time I wrote her - and her hair.

It's a sweet vice but I have to be careful. Sometimes I have have my characters spending too much time 'fiddling' with their own or others' hair - stroking, patting, tweaking, adding flowers. My heroes are usually as hair-fixated as I am and sometimes I need to remove some of their petting.

Why a dark-haired hero? I've never quite understood that romance 'guide'. Guillelm in A Knight's Vow is blond, a golden dragon. (Again, I use the colouring as my own reminder and key to character) Marc in A Knight's Captive has darker hair and a beard which he shaves off - to "reveal" himself. I've written dark-haired heroes but to me it's not an essential.

To celebrate brown hair, my bull-leaping heroine Sarmatia has long, brown hair:

"Still sprinting, Sarmatia shook her long brown hair out of its plait, laughing when a colt started back from her. She mopped her sweating face and pointed to the stream. The stallion wheeled round and headed for the water, Sarmatia keeping pace with his easy canter. One by one, they lost the other members of the herd to the lush grazing of the stream meadows, but they themselves drew closer, the horse's long mane and Sarmatia's hair mingling on the breeze in a weave of shades and textures. As they ran the sun poured golden from them both, like spray from sporting dolphins."

Her hair is different from the people of the Northern tribe where she settles with Fearn, the hero of Bronze Lightning. Fearn is a red-head, and many of his tribe are auburn or blond. Fearn has red hair to mirror his quick temper and to hint at his paranormal powers. I wanted him to 'show up' and he does!

"Kutatos had not told her that Ramose was Nubian, dark as a rare pearl. And the man beside him, fully as tall, white as Ramose was black— her breath hissed in her throat when she looked on Fearn for the first time. The healer had red hair, a red-gold beard. He glittered in that fierce Kretan sunlight. A bright stare mirrored hers then Fearn bowed his head."

Sarmatia clearly likes red-heads because she has a chestnut horse, too.

I like to use hair to confound stereotypes. One of my heroines, Ahhotpe, is blond - but she would never have a "blond" moment. She is a dangerous, calculating, kindly, devious princess. She makes the most of her unusual colouring in the court of her father, the Pharaoh Sekenenre, and uses her blond hair to her advantage.

So I have fun with hair. I've had curly haired heroes and heroines, long haired heroes and heroines, shorn heroes. I've had heroines caught by their hair - Joanna, the heroine in my third Kensington novel, A Knight's Enchantment (due in 2010) is trapped by her long hair while trying to escape.

Next time I will have to celebrate the naked scalp. That, for me, will be a challenge. Here’s Ahhotpe again:

"He applauded her invention in emerging not from the riverbank but from the Nile itself. No other woman would have had the courage to make a path for herself through the tall papyrus, risking the malice of snakes and other riverside creatures. When she first appeared, rising from the river with a beating of birds’ wings, sun flashing on her pale hair, even Sekenenre had trembled. The waterfowl fluttered around her outstretched hands as though waiting to receive a blessing, then passed in a rush of color straight over Sekenenre’s head."

One of my heroes - in Silk and Steel, a short novel forthcoming from Siren - is grey-haired. He is young but his hair is grey. The contrast to me is delicious and it also hints at deeper trouble. His hair has turned grey as the result of the shock of what he has been forced to be, in order to survive - a gladiator.

(All photographs by courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

Medieval recipe: Pears in Syrup

2009-06-29T18:06:00.011+01:00

Every now and again I have a go at a recipe from the ancient or medieval worlds, officially for research purposes but mostly through a mixture of curiosity and greed. Since I now own a copy of Constance Hieatt's delectable book of authentic medieval recipes, Pleyn Delit, this time it was one of those deceptively simple but spicy, wine-warm sweets which the fourteenth and fifteenth century loved.

The recipe calls for 1 kilo/2 lb of pears, 500ml red wine, 1 tbsp. red wine vinegar, 125 gm sugar, 1tsp. cinnamon and 1/4tsp. ground ginger, plus an optional 6-8 whole cloves and a pinch of saffron. There are several methods of cooking this fifteenth-century delicacy in Prof. Hieatt's book (recipe 113: Wardonys in Syryp), and medieval cooks would have used pots over an open fire, but I like to keep it simple, so used a casserole and a fan oven.

Parboil the pears in water for a few minutes, then peel and quarter them and lay them in the casserole. Add the cinnamon and sugar to the wine in a saucepan and heat it through until the sugar has dissolved, then strain (if necessary) and pour the mixture over the pears. Cover the casserole and leave it in the oven for about an hour at around 250C (180C in a fan oven worked fine). Remove the casserole and add the wine vinegar, cloves and saffron. If necessary, remove some of the liquid and boil it for a few minutes to reduce it, which will slightly thicken and sweeten the syrup. Put the casserole back in the oven and give it another 15 minutes or so. 'Look that it be sharp and sweet (poinaunt an dowcet)', the recipe says. Cool, serve and eat.

For more detail, more cooking methods and a mass of other recipes, see Pleyn Delit. The medieval English cook may well have used Warden pears, grown at the Cistercian abbey of Old Warden in Bedfordshire, and the abbey's coat of arms (top left, from the abbey's page at Bedfordshire County Council Archives) shows three of them. A similar dish, 'peres en confyt', includes mulberries for darkness and appears in the fourteenth-century cookbook, Forme of Cury.

Recent review roundup - plus an interview

2009-06-16T12:57:00.015+01:00

Allowing myself a brief toot or two on my own trumpet:

A couple of encouraging reviews came in recently for A Knight's Captive - one from Single Titles (who also did an interview with me) and one from Manic Readers.

I've also just had a B for Blue Gold from Dear Author, so that's another toot.

That's it for now.

The past is another country...

2009-06-05T08:05:00.006+01:00

...They do things differently there.' (L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between)

Setting any story in the distant past brings its own delights and perils. For me it allows my heroines to be engaging and ingenious, sometimes accepting historical society's conventions and restrictions, sometimes going against them, but always provoking inner or outward conflict. Heroes can be shown off to great advantage, really doing something - protecting, rescuing, struggling with great war-horses, battling the elements or the bad guys.

However, the backdrop against which all this high-stakes, high-adventure romance takes place needs to be carefully drawn and considered. Fashions are different, right down to underwear (or lack of it). Transport, law, weapons, animals, trees, climate, customs - these can all be very different from the present.

My oldest book, in both creative genesis and the date at which it is set, is Bronze Lightning. This is set in the Bronze Age, before the eruption of Thera (the modern Greek island of Santorini), the island shown below in a Bronze age fresco. Some structures, such as the pyramids and Stonehenge, were already old when the story opens in 1562 BC, although these also looked different. The pyramids I have imagined with their wonderful limestone covering, which would have made them gleam a brilliant white in the landscape. Stonehenge was also complete and not yet fallen into the decay already familiar when Constable created his painting of it.

Ritual places are not the only things that were different in the distant past. Some activities, such as the smelting of metals, farming, brewing, the making of clothes, were all different from what came later and very different from our own time.

Beliefs and religion were also very different and, given the few written sources we have from Bronze Age Europe, must be inferred from archaeology and other means. Fearn the hero believes in a Sky God who has some characters that are similar to the later Viking God Thor: all later religions tend to have 'clues' of past faiths in them. He also undergoes a trance state where he sees symbols that modern shamans have also reported seeing in trances and which have been painted by cave painters.

In Bronze Lightning I bring the heroine Sarmatia right to my own doorstep. The winter house she lives in is set where my parents' house is now, and the wild apple and cherry trees she sees in blossom are ones I have known since childhood. Lots of other details are changed, however, because the distant past truly is another country.

In the Bronze Age, the climate in England was warmer and drier than today. There was much more woodland, and animals such as beavers, bears, wolves and wild boar in the woods. We have lost all these creatures excerpt for the boar, which has escaped from farms in southern England and is making its home in woodland again. Lime trees flourished, and orchids and other flowers that are rare or extinct today. The sheep Sarmatia care for were more like Soay sheep, that do not flock and whose fleece is not at all like the thick fleeces of modern breeds. The cattle were smaller or completely wild. Even the stars she followed were different. Even the polar star hung in a different place in the Bronze Age.

I exploit these differences to show the past in my story, to remind my readers that they are in another time, another place... where magic and romance do truly go hand in hand.

[This piece was posted as part of Classic Romance Revival's Carnival event. Contest winners are listed here:

http://www.classicromancerevival.com/blog/?p=967

A CRR free read package for the 100th lucky subscriber is still available - we are so nearly there! It could just be you! While you're at the CRR blog, look for the subscribe2 block in the sidebar, enter your email address and click send.]

The power and romance of names

2009-06-01T19:28:00.001+01:00

In Ursula le Guin's Earthsea Trilogy, names are part of the magic and being of characters, and to discover someone's true name is to gain power over that person. Names do have power. I wonder how many sons will be called Obama in future years?

Names have power and significance in romance, too. If a hero has a bulky, awkward name, do readers empathise with him? If a heroine has an 'old-fashioned' name, does she lose credibility?

I write medieval historical romances, and I find how I name my people vitally important. For instance, in the Anglo-Saxon period, there are many names beginning with E or AE - EDGAR, EDITH, EGBERT, ELDRED, ALFRED. These names have power and meaning - EGBERT means 'Gleaming Sword' - yet they possibly have fallen out of favour. How many heroes are called EGBERT now? ARTHUR is another name that may look old-fashioned to some. The meaning of ARTOS, 'bear' is wonderful to me, though, and made me fall utterly in love with the name again.

I always try to discover if names have meanings and bear those meanings in mind as I write. For example, my heroine in A Knight's Captive is called Sunniva, which means Sun Gift. It's a Viking name, still used in parts of Britain. AVERIL is another name I would love to use sometime - it's meaning is 'Wild boar battle maid'.

As a historical romance writer I try to use names I feel are appropriate to the period in which I'm writing. Sarmatia is a real name, taken from a Kretan Linear B writing tablet of the time when Bronze Lightning is set. Ahhotpe in Blue Gold means 'The Moon is Content', which is nicely ironic, given that my Egyptian princess is very ambitious! Sometimes names cetainly can deceive. I had an anti-heroine in one of my modern romantic suspenses (Night of the Storm) and I called her Katherine, which means 'Pure'.

So names do matter, as a clue to a character's background and nature or as a key to period. I am always filled with admiration for fantasy and science fiction romance writers who devise names. Of course, sometimes names cannot be avoided: I read a good historical war-and-romance novel (The Assyrian by Nicholas Guild) and the names there - all authentic - were very difficult to me: very long and multi-syllabled.

For me, at least, some names are to be avoided!

Lindsay (it means 'Linden Tree')

I've been Kindled again...

2009-05-22T18:48:00.006+01:00

I'm delighted to report that all my mainstream Bookstrand titles are now - like my Kensington medievals - available for the Amazon Kindle. Links are on my blog (see the book details pages), or on Amazon's own list of my Kindle editions.

'A Knight's Captive' a keeper at Romance Junkies

2009-05-14T15:47:00.011+01:00

Romance Junkies have given four ribbons to A Knight's Captive. Here's a little of Natalie's review:

"Lindsay Townsend's newest release, A KNIGHT'S CAPTIVE, takes place in England just months before the Norman invasion. Readers will be mesmerized by the hero, Marc, and Sunniva, the woman who captures his heart.

... Lindsay Townsend and her wonderful characters didn't let me down. The love that Marc and Sunniva had for each other finally culminated in a relationship that was almost blessed. A KNIGHT'S CAPTIVE by Lindsay Townsend is a keeper in my book. I can't wait to read it again."

The full review is here.

Historical Novel Society reviews 'Flavia's Secret'

2009-05-13T12:06:00.004+01:00

The Historical Novel Society has now reviewed Flavia's Secret:

In second-century Roman Britain, the Lady Valeria maintains a blissful household devoted to good talk and good reading, staffed with a beloved “family” of slaves—including beautiful young Flavia. When Lady Valeria dies, the household passes into the possession of young Roman officer Marcus Brucetus, a veteran of the perpetual border-warfare in Germania.
As is the way in such stories, these two are immediately attracted to each other, despite the fact that not only is he a free man and she a slave, but she’s his slave, his property along with everything and everyone else in the house. Lindsay Townsend handles this complication with unerring skill and some very pleasing human touches. In one scene, Marcus makes an offhand comment about how tightly Flavia pins her hair. She acerbically reminds him that he can change anything he dislikes, since he owns it all. He simply touches one of her hairpins, and she replies:
“You have made your point.” Suddenly Flavia felt weary, weary of being a slave, weary of fighting this man and her own feelings.
Marcus looked at her a moment longer, then sighed and stepped back.
“You are right,” he said. “That was a crass thing to do.”
“Yes,” said Flavia steadily. “It was.”
Such exchanges are frequent in Flavia’s Secret, and they constitute the book’s main pleasure. Townsend has a great ear for snappy dialog, and even her most minor characters spring instantly to life with a carefully-chosen sentence or description. Most details of Roman Britain at the time are faithfully rendered, although at its heart, this is a timeless story of two people finding love where they least expect it. Flavia’s Secret is cheerfully recommended. -- Steve Donoghue

Historical Novels Review Online is here.

4.5 Red Roses for 'Bronze Lightning'

2009-05-12T13:06:00.004+01:00

I'm thrilled with this 4.5 Red Roses review for my historical romance, Bronze Lightning! Here's what Linda Sole says: (Thank you, Linda!)

"This is a remarkable book in that it takes you back in time. It is well written so that you get a glimpse of the world at that time and it gives you a wonderful mystery as to who is behind the attacks and keeps you guessing as to what will happen next. The many twists and turns keep you engrossed as you try to figure out who is behind all the mishaps that keep happening. I give this one 4-1/2 Red Roses."

The links to the full review, buy details and summary are here.

Heroes and kings

2009-04-27T19:07:00.003+01:00

I could look at this famous Burne-Jones picture, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid, for hours. It shows one of the romance ideals - the ultimate Cinderella story. King Cophetua, smitten by love for the beggar girl, finds her, offers her his heart and marries her. (Naturally, she says yes!)

It's the stuff of romance, even modern romance. Over and over, the rich, powerful hero 'rescues' the Cinderella heroine: the struggling artist, waitress, actress, secretary. As a myth it's comforting to the man, showing him as a powerful hero figure. Women, too, can enjoy the fantasy of being swept up into luxury - who wouldn't?

I'd love to see more role-reversal of this myth: the queen raising up the beggar lad, the woman of power showering her hero with gifts. Woman not only as care-giver or healer but as bestower.

I don't write role reversal very often, although I did have fun with the ideas in Bronze Lightning, in the relationship between Bride and her young lover.

I guess I'm just a sucker for romantic heroes as kings.

'A Knight's Vow' - a first birthday and some giveaways.

2009-04-16T11:29:00.030+01:00

My first medieval romance for Kensington Publishing, A Knight's Vow, first arrived in the bookstores last spring. It now sits proudly on my shelves beside my other two print books of this last year, my ancient Roman historical romance, Flavia's Secret, and my latest medieval romance, A Knight's Captive.

To celebrate, I am giving away 3 copies each of all 3 books - print copies of A Knight's Vow and A Knight's Captive and downloads of Flavia's Secret.

There will be three draws, one for each title. All you have to do is leave a comment on this blog post or email me (lindsaytownsend@yahoo.co.uk) saying which book you'd like to win. The closing date is the end of Sunday 19th April and the nine winners will be announced on Tuesday 21st April.

Medieval riddles: 'A Knight's Captive'

2009-03-27T18:31:00.004Z

With A Knight's Captive coming out very soon, I thought I would talk a little about Anglo-Saxon poetry. There are some beautiful and very poignant poems in Old English. Poems such as The Seafarer and The Wife's Lament speak to us even today of love and loss and longing. There are poems that contain useful information - verse is a useful memory device - and poems celebrating places such as Durham, battles such as the battle of Maldon, biblical heroines such as Judith and profound mystical experiences. The Dream of the Rood takes the idea of the cross on which Christ was crucified: the 'wondrous tree' from which he hung, and has the tree speak to us directly as it too suffered with Christ.

I wanted to honour this great tradition in A Knight's Captive, which takes place in 1066, the year when the doomed KIng Harold of England issued the coin in the picture above. I did so by devising my own versions of poems that were another part of Anglo-Saxon society and poetry - riddles.

There are riddles about wine, about a bookworm, about a reed, about a shield, about a plough. Some are saucy and double-edged in meaning; all give clues as to what people noticed in those times, what was important to them, what amused them. Some of the original riddles can be seen here and here. I read them and even though the poems are in translation I feel directly connected to a people long past - a wonderful, slightly eerie event.

Here are my own riddles. They appear in A Knight's Captive as the heroine Sunniva and hero Marc are attempting to escape the clutches of her uncle in the mysterous and dangerous fenlands:

She was a good traveler, Marc thought, kneeling up in the log boat to row. As the darkness faded to a dusky rose and the sun began to burn off some of the river-fog, she began to ask him riddles.
"This is one way we English pass the long winter evenings, so it is a skill you need," she said.
"Ask away," Marc answered. It passed the dull time of rowing and he could still listen and keep watch. Her voice lilted to him over his shoulder, teasing and playful.

"A giant, now toppled,
hollow and dead,
still glides where it never would
when alive."

That was easy. "This boat," Marc answered.
"Here is another," Sunniva paused to wrap her head-square about her alder paddle to save her hands against the knobbly bark. She had offered to tear it in two for him to share but, when Marc shook his head, she cleared her throat and declared,

"This knave creeps and clings,
A friend to mischief, the enemy
of sight. The sun may drive him off -"

"You cannot claim fog is male," Marc interrupted. "It is a woman. Listen." He listened himself first, checking all about was still and reedy, no dogs or busy hunters, then spoke.
"She winds her promise of mystery about you,
Endlessly deceiving and beguiling. Softer than dew."
"Not so," Sunniva replied at once. "Listen -"
And so they went on, moving slowly but steadily through the fens until they reached a point where the mist seeped away and they found themselves on a river, rowing to a fording-place.

[Photograph of the coin of Harold II from the British Museum by courtesy of Wikimedia Commons]

Four stars at Romantic Times for 'A Knight's Captive'

2009-03-06T09:50:00.005Z

Kathe Robin at Romantic Times has given my forthcoming A Knight's Captive four stars. Here's the full review:

"Townsend brilliantly transports readers to the turbulent years of the Norman invasion with a tale of a battle-weary knight and a young woman on a perilous pilgrimage. Medieval fans will enjoy the colorful backdrop, historical events and realistic characters.

Sunniva of Wereford accompanies her cantankerous father and brothers on a religious pilgrimage, calmly accepting their abuse. However, she surreptitiously watches Marc de Sens and his three orphaned nieces, yearning for the touch of the gentle knight. But she's to be promised to another.

Marc notices the beautiful Sunniva,and when she's attacked by slavers he rescues her. When her kin are killed in battle he becomes her champion. Despite Marc's secret, his reason for being a Norman in Saxon England and the rumors he is a woman killer, Sunniva still falls in love with him. But will her love sustain her when she learns the truth about Marc's past?"

You can find the link to this review and more details of A Knight's Captive here.

'A Knight's Vow' at Dear Reader

2009-02-16T18:21:00.006Z

Starting today (February 16), my 'A Knight's Vow' is this week's romance book up for discussion at Dear Reader, so if you'd like to join in on the Romance Book Club section of their book forum this week, you'll be very welcome!